Through the Eye of the Artist
by SpaceySighs
Summary: The story of Dorian Gray through the eyes of Basil Hallward. Mainly based on the movie but some original plot. Movie is based on the book The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1 Greetings

Chapter 1

Basil gazed around the room idly; Harry's parties were never any real interest to him, he couldn't think of any reason why tonight would be any different.

Then he saw him.

He was standing in the right hand corner of the room, a nervous smile playing on his face as Lord Fermor spoke with him. No; speaking at him seemed more accurate. Poor boy he didn't look a day over twenty, Basil thought, perhaps he should intervene before the lad said something that would deem inappropriate to Lord Fermor and consequently anger him. Not that the lad would, Basil continued to ponder as he got up and began to drift over to the boy. If Basil had been paying more attention to the common sense part of his mind (rather than marveling over the unique youth and innocence the boy seemed to possess) he would have realised that his it had just given him a logical excuse to go speak to the boy himself.

"Why, hello Lord Fermor," Basil smiled as he reached the Lord and the young boy, "I see your nephew has not yet failed in throwing another splendid social gathering."

"Indeed," Lord Fermor muttered, clearly annoyed at Basil's joining to his conversation with the young man, "Henry is yet to disappoint."

"Yes, quite. Harry is infamous for his get-togethers" Basil smiled and chanced a glance at the boy that had been the reason for his disrupting, "I believe I have not yet had the pleasure to be introduced..."

"A-hem, ah yes" Lord Fermor coughed, "Basil this is Dorian Gray, he has just moved here from the country due to the unfortunate death of his Grandfather, Lord Kelso."

"How do you do?" the boy said, shaking Basil's hand, giving him a striking smile.

"And this is Basil Hallward," Lord Fermor continued, "A fine artist as the word goes, apparently."

"I remember hearing of the passing of Lord Kelso," Basil sustained, ignoring Lord Fermour's last comment, "I am sorry for your loss."

"Why should you be?" Lord Fermor interrupted, "Dorian came out quite well from his death, isn't that right Dorian? Inherited everything I believe?"

"I barely knew him," Dorian stated still looking at Basil- piercing him with his eager to please dark brown eyes, "And what I do remember I feel is best forgotten."

Basil shifted from side to side; trying to get rid of the sudden chills that said eyes had just sent down his spine: "I could use a drink," he mumbled, "Could I get either of you anything?"

"No, thank you Basil, I have a fine glass of whisky here," Lord Fermor grumbled, clearly wanting Basil to just leave him, once again, alone with Dorian.

"What about yourself?" Basil said, glimpsing again at Dorian just to get another chance to look into his piercings youthful eyes.

"No thank you, I don't drink," Dorian smiled.

"I envy you that," Basil said before turning away, cheeks slowly turning red from the radiance of beauty that beamed off of Dorian's face.

"It was nice to have met you," Dorian called after him.

Basil turned and nodded, giving him a shy smile, "And you."

***

Basil wiped his forehead with his handkerchief, meeting Dorian Gray had been one of the most thrilling moments of his life so far which was defiantly saying something.

Basil was back in his previous seat before his encounter with Dorian Gray. Even his name gave him shivers.

"Wonderful, isn't he?"

Basil jumped, he hadn't realised he had sub-consciously been watching Dorian from across the room again: admiring the complexion of his face; his young lean body; smoothness of his skin...

"Indeed... I mean... Harry, what have you been all night?"

"The same as you dear friend, admiring the phenomenon of youth and its possibilities," Lord Henry said as he sat in the seat next to Basil, "Dorian is an exquisite example. It's a shame he isn't yet aware of these possibilities."

"Harry, I beg you leave him alone," Basil said, panic slowly rising from the pits of his stomach, "Let him find his own experiences."

"Of course I shall!" Lord Henry said, pleased with the reaction he had pulled out of Basil, "But there's nothing wrong with giving him a small push in the right direction..."

Basil sighed, "In that case, Henry, let me use this new found inspiration from him first."

"Certainly, Harry. I do not wish to stand in the way of your art."

"Thank you," Basil exhaled, relaxing a back into his chair.

What magnificent art he could create with Dorian Gray; those possibilities seemed endless...


	2. Chapter 2 First True Impressions

Chapter 2

It was a while until Basil saw Dorian Gray again- during which time he couldn't get the image of the boy out of his head. So many ideas flew around his head it was hard to concentrate on each one separately. But now his withdrawal symptoms were about to be cured as he was about to see the bringer of his newly found inspiration once again.

He was at another one of Harry's infamous social gatherings. Thankfully Harry hadn't yet spoken to Dorian personally, the only reason Mr Gray was there tonight was because he was guest of Harry's aunt; Lady Agatha.

Basil couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement when he finally found Dorian. He smiled as he saw the boy sitting at Harry's grand piano playing the most delightful tune with much talent. How marvellous, Basil thought, he is an artist if his own.

Dorian looked up from the keys and smiled at Basil, clearly recognising him.

"It's good to see you again, Mr Hallward," Dorian said, finishing off his little number and standing up to greet Basil, holding out his hand.

"You too, Mr Gray," Basil grinned, clasping Dorian's hand in a firm handshake, "But please, I would much prefer you to call me Basil."

"Very well... Basil," Dorian said, walking over to some spare seats in the next room, out of the way from the hustle and bustle of the other guests.

Basil's body shivered automatically as Dorian spoke his name. However, his younger seemed not to notice as they both sat down.

"You are an artist, isn't that right?" Dorian said, "I seem to remember that from our previous encounter, when I was with Lord Fermor."

Basil chuckled, "Indeed I am... Or trying to be, people say I have talent but I haven't yet found any true inspiration..."

Until now, Basil thought.

"But I am talking much too much about myself!" Basil blushed, "Tell me, what your first impression of Lord Fermor was?"

Dorian's eyes dazzled as he smiled, "He appeared to be a very proud man."

Basil nodded in agreement, "A little too proud sometimes if I may say so..."

"Hmm, I noticed," Dorian said his eyes studying Basil's face.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so rude, Lord Fermor is in many ways a good man," Basil stumbled over his words, he didn't want to make a bad impression on Dorian- especially as it was their first proper meeting.

"I wouldn't be so fast to compliment him if I were you," Dorian said, looking down.

"Why?" Basil asked interested, "Did he say something to you?"

"Oh no, nothing about me," Dorian laughed then smiled, "What would he have to say to me? However, after you left for drinks, he was not so complementary to you and your art works."

"Ah, I see," Basil gave a small smile of relief, "Well my art isn't to everyone's taste."

"I'm sure it's wonderful!" Dorian said, "I would very much like to see some."

Basil felt his cheeks slowly turn red; maybe he and Dorian did have some interest in him after all. He looked down to try and hide his cheeks, "Oh there's nothing that good. As I said before, I haven't yet found any real inspiration..."

"Well what do you need to inspire you?" Dorian asked his young eyes full of curiosity.

Basil sighed, he may as well ask now as they were on the topic of his art...

"Actually, Dorian, I was wondering if you would be so kind to model for me... You are a most stunning young man and have truly awakened some kind of motivation inside of me."

Now it was Dorian's turn to blush, "How very kind of you, Basil. One doesn't usually expect such compliments."

Basil flushed from the Dorian's reaction.

"I would be delighted to model for you."

Basil leaned back in his chair and let out a laugh of relief, "Well that's excellent!"

Dorian smiled "It would be my pleasure."


	3. Chapter 3 Painter's Block

Chapter 3

The room was a refreshing cool compared to the summer heat outside its walls. The windows on the East and West side had been open throughout much of the day; slowly letting in a clam gentle wind.

Basil was standing at his easel, concentrating on the canvas that sat upon it. He had the strangest sensation that the art he was about to undergo and create would be one of the best in his life. The other sketches he'd produced were only leading up to this final portrait.

Dorian shifted on his stand, "Is everything okay, Basil?"

Basil looked up, "Sorry, Dorian. I didn't mean to make you stand there for this long."

"May I take a rest and see what you've done so far?"

Basil's cheeks betrayed him by flushing.

"Oh Dorian, I am ashamed to say I haven't actually started on this final portrait yet," Basil's eyes fell back onto the blank canvas to confirm it to himself, "But please, do feel free to rest, I've kept you up there long enough."

It had been a six weeks since Basil had asked Dorian to model for him; since then Dorian had been going to Basil's home almost every day to help to continue to inspire Basil.

"Never mind about today, Basil," Dorian said, stepping down off his podium, "I'm sure I will be more of an inspiration for you tomorrow."

"Oh but dear Dorian! You are inspiration to be everyday that I see you!" Basil exclaimed, "It's just, I feel that this painting will be my last!"

"Don't be ridiculous Basil!" Dorian said shocked, "Why would this be your last painting?! I'm sure you had previous ideas before you met me, why not carry them out afterwards?"

But everything in my life was worthless before I met you. Basil thought, then sighed.

"This will be the first portrait of you where you won't be dressing up in one of my ridiculous facades for you," Basil said, deliberately changing the subject, "I want it to be a gift to you."

Dorian's eyes lit up at this.

"Truly Basil? Why that would be fabulous!" Dorian said, his smile almost reaching his ears.

Basil felt the sensation of finality from deep within him dissolve as the smile's radiance reached him. Was he honestly the reason it shone so bright?

"I will miss those facades," Dorian said still smiling, "Alas, it will mean you will never paint me again as your Apollo."

"Hmm," Basil mumbled looking round the room for yet another distraction from yet another embarrassing subject.

If truth be told, Dorian would always be like Apollo to Basil- divine and desire to worship.

"Would you care for some tea?" Basil enquired, noticing the teapot and china that his butler must have laid out for them while he had been absorbed in trying to sort through his thoughts and ideas for Dorian's final portrait.

"Thank you very kindly dear Basil, but I'm afraid I've let time run away with me today," Dorian said suddenly noticing in the time from the clock on the wall.

"Oh," Basil sighed, "Must you really leave at this moment?"

"I'm afraid so," Dorian frowned, "Victor shall be wondering where I am."

Dorian read the unhappiness on Basil's face, "Do not look so discontent; I shall be back tomorrow, I want to see you begin on my portrait."

"Of course," Basil said, bowing his head in attempt to try and hide his apparently obviously dim face.

Dorian rose and Basil followed his lead, they nodded to each other to signify goodbye- then Dorian left. Basil instantly sat down after he had done so. There had been more than one subject, brought up by Dorian that day, which had been of some sort of embarrassment for Basil. All he wanted to do now was forget about those moments and rest- he feared that it would be another equally long day for them both tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4 Intruder

Chapter 4

The paintbrushes danced across the canvas; every time one twirled across the surface they left a trail of colour behind them. It wasn't like Basil was controlling the paintbrushes but more like they were controlling him. They possessed his minds deep sub-conscious longing of want to be able to capture the boy's beauty, youth and innocence just perfectly. Electric shocks shuddered up Basil's arm as he went to mix more paint.

"Basil?" Dorian enquired softly.

Basil gladly looked up; it would help him to soak more of the boy's features into his mind, "Yes Dorian?"

"You have seemed most engrossed in me in these last few days. I mean more so, now that you have began to paint my portrait."

"I have to be," Basil paused, gradually lifting his brush from the form that was taking place on the canvas in front of him, "I want to capture everything that I can from you. It's calling out to me, almost begging to be retained. I couldn't allow people to call me a respectable artist is I let this get away."

Dorian gave a light laugh, "But what is this thing that you speak of? And why should you only notice it from me?"

"Alas my dear Dorian, I do not know," Basil replied, again willingly letting his unconscious mind continue to paint Dorian's figure and form, "If I knew why I don't know if I'd be so fast to allow it to take over me so."

"You talk in mysteries sometimes Basil," Dorian smiled to himself, eyes glistening as he did so- unknowing to Dorian but nearly painfully plain to Basil.

"Hmm," Basil mustered as a reply.

The rest of Basil's work on the portrait that day was barely interrupted until Dorian had to leave of course. They said their goodbyes to each other with genuine smiles and thanks. Basil had been wrong as few days earlier about the time being spent with Dorian being awkward and painful; in fact he found it quite enjoyable to be able to gaze, without objection, at something so thoroughly beautiful in order to for him to paint it. Of course his other work had been beautiful and it had been rather pleasant to undertake, but his mind no longer needed to comprehend to what the question of what he much preferred to be doing...

A knock on the door to his studio soon pulled him out of these thoughts- much to his annoyance.

"Yes? What is it?" Basil couldn't help but grumble.

His butler opened the door and stood in its entrance, "Lord Henry Wotton is here to see you, sir."

"Oh," Basil said more than a little surprised, "Thank you, send him in."

His butler nodded and left the doorway, leaving it wide open. Basil took a deep breath in- any reason Harry had to come and see him, without a pre-warning, usually meant he wanted to know something, typically something Basil would prefer not discuss.

"Good afternoon," Lord Henry said walking into the room, casually looking round as he did so.

Basil quickly covered the unfinished portrait of Dorian with a long paint speckled cream rag, "Good afternoon Harry, and might I ask what brings you to my home on such short notice?"

"I can always expect such a splendid welcome from you, can't I Basil?" said Lord Henry striding towards Basil and taking a seat opposite him.

"Perhaps if one could inform the other that one would be coming, a more splendid welcome could have been made," Basil huffed.

"Oh aren't you charming today," Lord Henry laughed, "What's got your knickers in a twist today?"

"I'm sorry Harry," Basil sighed, realising his impoliteness, "Once again, may I be so bold to ask what brings you to my home today?"

"I've heard, from my charming aunt Lady Agatha that you have been entertaining that enchanting young boy Dorian Gray that I saw you speaking to at that charity bash she instituted I have," Lord Henry inquired," Is this true?"

"So what if it is?" said Basil eyeing Harry, "What business is it of yours?"

"She also tells me that you have been partaking in painting the dear boy too," Lord Henry said, completely ignoring Basil's questions, "May I take a look? I'm afraid I did not actually get the chance to meet young Mr Gray at the parties; sinful when you consider they were hosted by me."

"I'm sure you were busy insulting some other poor unexpected guests of yours," Basil said, letting out a small chuckle, Harry was well known for his unorthodox conversations, "You may not look Harry, no one may look until I'm finished."

"You were always so tedious like that Basil," Lord Henry laughed, "When do you continue painting?"

Basil hesitated, he wasn't sure where Harry was going with these questions but he wasn't sure that he liked it, "It should be tomorrow..."

"And that means that the infamous Mr Gray will have to be here too," Henry continued again.

Basil's muscles stiffened, "He is not infamous."

"Ah, perhaps his outlook isn't, yet, but his beauty most absolutely is," Henry smiled, "Talk of his presence youth is most certainly the most vocal subject in our small minded upper class community."

"Nonetheless, Harry, I would prefer if you did not so obviously offend my friend, even if he isn't here at this present time," Basil nearly whispered.

"Very well," Henry said amused at Basil protective nature over the boy, "Then would it be too much to ask for me be able to ask to sit and watch you paint tomorrow?"

Basil exhaled in irritation at the request, "I suppose not," he said, "On the condition that you stay quiet."


	5. Chapter 5 New Encounters

Chapter 5

Harry was late. However, this didn't surprise Basil in the slightest; Harry often made arrangements just to break them. On the other hand, Dorian was there and that was the most important thing to him at the moment.

Dorian was currently changing from his outdoor clothing to those that he had chosen to wear for the painting.

"I hope you don't mind, Dorian," Basil was in the midst of saying, "That Lord Henry Wotton may pop in at some point while I'm working to sit and watch. Do not be bothered by him, I've told him to sit quietly or else he must leave."

"Lord Henry Wotton?" Dorian said, "Isn't that the nephew of Lady Agatha?"

"Indeed it is," Basil said, glancing over at Dorian... As he did so he suddenly stopped fiddling with the paintbrushes he had been washing and gave a small gasp.

Dorian had just lifted off his shirt and his back didn't look like the way any other normal young man's would. It had been violated with some sort of aggression, leaving its marks. His poor Dorian had been tainted with scars; worse than that, his Dorian had had to suffer the pain of these scars! Basil took a few steps towards him.

"It should be fun to finally meet the host of the parties I have been attending," Dorian continued, carelessly throwing his shirt on the chair that was behind him.

Basil carried on walking towards Dorian, hypnotised by the scars. He reached out his hand in order to gently stroke one, with the longing to just wash over them and create a blank canvas.

"I'm surprised I haven't had the pleasure of meeting him sooner," Dorian continued, "You should have introduced me Basil seeing as you appear to be close friends with him!"

Basil stood so close to Dorian now that if he took one step closer his hand would be on the boy's shoulder.

"Perhaps you should have done Basil," Dorian giggled then fell quiet as he heard no reply, "Basil?"

Basil took that one step closer but let his hand fall to the side as he did so.

"Dorian," he answered, "These scars..."

Dorian turned his head slightly to see what his friend was doing and leaned forward a little when he realised how close his Basil actually was.

"Yes," was all Dorian could gather as a reply.

"If I could take them away..." Basil mused mostly to himself, "I swear to you that I would."

Dorian sighed at the softness of the tone and drew back slightly, wanting to feel the softness as an action like he never had before.

Basil came out of the trance that had been produced by the scars as he felt Dorian's bare back lightly press onto his fully clothed stomach. Sharply breathing in though his nose he stepped back and walked over to the brushes he had been washing. Dorian quickly pulled on the shirt that he had chosen to be painted in which was quickly followed by a plain black waistcoat he had also chosen.

***

When Harry did finally arrive in Basil's studio he wasn't at all surprised at the scene that he saw or at the tension that swarmed the room. Rather than break the delightful atmosphere, however, he sat down in an armchair which held the view of Basil painting and the charming sight of the lad being painted.

After about an hour of watching Basil work on his so called masterpiece Harry became bored...

"I want to see it," Henry said, standing up abruptly.

"No no no!" Basil said hurriedly, giving Harry a look of warning.

"He won't even let me take a peek," Dorian giggled.

"Why Basil, are you trying to hide the portrait from us because you have completely ruined capturing this young man's beauty correctly and are ashamed of showing it?" Lord Henry challenged, a smirk growing on his face.

Basil opened his mouth to reply but Dorian cut in, "Don't be ridiculous, Basil's work is always superb."

Henry turned to face the young man, "That's high praise, Mr Gray, very high praise indeed."

"Well he deserves nothing less," Dorian said, then turned to Basil, "May I step down now? I think I need to greet Lord Wotton properly."

"Of course," Basil said setting down his paints and brushes and swiftly covering the unfinished portrait with the same speckled rag as he had done before.

"I have heard a lot about you," Lord Henry said as Dorian stepped of the platform, "It is an honour to finally meet the man whose youth has already captivated the minds of so many- Basil included it seems."

Basil shared gave quick look Henry after this added comment and then turned to Dorian, "Do not be fooled, Dorian; there are many more important things in this life than having a pretty face- and you having one isn't the only reason why people have taken a shine to you."

"What a load of old tosh," Henry cut in.

"Why so?" Dorian said, spinning his head to look at Lord Henry- since the conversation had started he wasn't sure who to keep an eye on the most.

"The only reason people get noticed nowadays is because of the way they look and the reactions are always the same: if you are pretty people will be attracted to you, thus making you popular with people and having more opportunities for a good life are handed to you. However, if you aren't one of the lucky ones and have an awful look about you people will be reluctant to talk to you. Therefore, the opposite things will happen: you will become unpopular and find it hard to have a good life," Henry looked at Dorian as he spoke this, smiling, on the inside, at how much the boy seemed to pay attention to him and lap up every word that he said, "Do you understand, Mr Gray?"

Dorian nodded once. Lord Henry fascinated him, how could such a man think this way?

"Good," Lord Henry smiled, "And as you are one of the lucky ones, Mr Gray, I am inviting you to another party, my Uncle's to be precise, Lord Fermor, I believe you have met..."

Lord Henry gave Basil a knowing look, "Consider it an opportunity I hand over to you in order to help you live a better life."

"Why thank you Lord Wotton," Dorian said, chancing his own peek at Basil.

"Naturally Basil has already been invited," Henry said, smiling a little, "Do please call me Henry, Lord Wotton sounds dreadfully old and dull!"

"Yes, I am sorry, Henry," Dorian stammered, "When is this bash?"

"Tonight," Henry said scooping up his coat that he had carelessly thrown onto the armchair as he had come in, "That is why we have to get you some more suitable clothes."

Dorian blushed, "Certainly," he turned back to Basil who had sat down in his own armchair which was in front of the portrait "Will you be joining us, Basil?"

Basil sighed, "I'm afraid I cannot, I need to sort out this part of the background before it dries..."

"Oh, that's a shame," Dorian said picking up his other clothes to try and hide his slight disappointment.

"Yes, what a shame," Henry cut in almost sarcastically, "We shall see you tonight, Basil."

"Yes, yes, have a good time looking for 'more suitable clothing' as I think you put it, Henry," Basil said just as both Henry and Dorian left.

He leaned back in his chair and gave out a small cry. Henry had begun to push Dorian in the 'right direction' as he had so fondly put it before... Basil hoped beyond hope that Dorian wouldn't fall into Henry's undoubtedly good charm, and still be able to look back and see him.


	6. Chapter 6 Back to Before?

Chapter 6

Basil was sitting alone at Lord Fermor's social gathering. He hadn't seen Harry or Dorian since his arrival. He sighed and took another gulp of his red wine. He was dreading the things that Harry may have been telling Dorian- his philosophies were often so biased and misleading. However, on a lighter note, Basil couldn't wait to see the finer clothes Harry had hinted on helping Dorian buy for the party; although Basil hadn't thought the boy's previous clothes were at all shabby.

Basil was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice Lady Agatha scurry over to him: "Basil!" she beamed, "So glad you were able to make it."

"Good evening Lady Agatha," Basil smiled, standing to greet her.

"Does Lord Fermor know that you are here? In fact, does anyone know that you are here? You are sitting alone," she continued to fuss.

"Yes, yes my dear Lady, in truth Lord Fermor met me at the door."

"Yes, but I thought you would be with Harry, he brought that young boy, Dorian I think his name is, the two have been making acquaintances all night," Lady Agatha said then smiled to herself, "The two have been getting along like they've known each other their whole lives."

"Hmm," Basil murmured.

"I'm sorry?" Lady Agatha said, coming out of the trance the thought of the young man put her in, looking slightly puzzled.

"I said where are they congregating?" Basil lied.

"Oh, just in the other room through there," said Lady Agatha, putting to the open archway that was behind Basil.

Basil turned his head and, although they had their backs to him, he could defiantly see Harry and Dorian.

"Come," Lady Agatha said, "Let us let them know you are here."

She took Basil's arm and half pulled him towards them. He did his best to resist her force but Lady Agatha had a very persistent character which was often shown through her strong actions.

"Harry, look who I found!" Lady Agatha exclaimed.

"Ah Basil, where have you been hiding yourself?" Henry said, shaking his hand.

"Basil," Dorian smiled, "What do you think about my new suit?"

Basil looked studied Dorian's new garments. Although Basil had liked Dorian's previous formal suit what he was wearing now made him look nothing short of stunning! He was wearing a fashionable dark navy jacket which covered a silk waistcoat which went well with his eyes; a small bow tie that, Basil supposed was better, didn't droop like his last one; Dorian was also wearing tailored trousers with a very smart pair of shoes that had been shined especially for the evening.

"Well, look at you Dorian," Basil gasped, trying to cover up the enchantment the boy's appearance had on him, "And how much money did Harry make you waste?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Basil, money can never be wasted on things that make yourself appear superior to others," Harry cut in.

"So, you don't like it...?" Dorian asked his mood obviously dropping as his eyes fell slightly.

"Oh no, Dorian!" Basil exclaimed, "You look charming."

Dorian looked up again and his eyes twinkled.

"Oh look Dorian here are some more people you simply must meet!" Lady Agatha cried out in excitement as she pulled over a young smiling woman and an overly dressed elder woman.

"Indeed," Lord Henry said nodding at the younger woman, "This is my wife Victoria and our friend Lady Radly."

Dorian turned and greeted his new company and Basil did the same. Lady Radly beamed at Dorian like a school girl, Basil gritted his teeth: this was going to be a long night...


	7. Chapter 7 Unknown Intentions

Chapter 7

The colours did not mix right today- no matter how much Basil twirled and twisted the brush in his hand the paint would not combine correctly together. Dorian was also being a slight nuisance as a sitter today; chatting to Harry (who had come to sit and watch again) reacting to every word the man spoke. It irritated Basil, but he didn't know why; perhaps this was the subconscious reason why painting seemed a task today. Thank God, he thought, I have finished the body and only have to work on the background.

"Right, that's quite enough of this!" Lord Henry suddenly exclaimed, standing up, "Basil how much more time do you need working on this portrait of Dorian? Although I'm sure it is going to have a lovely like nice to him, Basil, he is still a young man and young men frequently need a change of scenery to help keep their days joyful and appealing."

Dorian laughed, "Rather true, Harry! Indeed Basil are you nearly finished? I have been a sitter for you and this portrait for almost a month now, you must be near completion!"

Basil stiffened at Dorian's continuous rapid agreement to whatever Harry said but then loosened- he realised he that he didn't actually need Dorian to finish the background, "I only need to work on the backdrop, I suppose you could take a break..."

Dorian immediately jumped down from the stand.

"Excellent!" Lord Henry cried, "Now to get out of here! Dorian, I know the perfect place to show you."

Basil looked at him sternly, "Must we leave to take a break?"

"Oh Basil, you're not usually such a bore!" Dorian laughed, "I want to see where Harry's talking about."

"Well of course you do dear boy," Lord Henry smiled, "If you really don't wish to leave, Basil, you can stay here and fiddle with your background!"

These words brought Basil slight pain but there was no way he was going to let Harry get away with it so easily, "And leave Dorian on his own to your mouth of folly? I think not."

Lord Henry smiled smugly, this reaction from Basil was a surprise to him but that didn't stop him from enjoying it: "Very well, Basil, summon a coach!"

***

They were sitting at a small table in the centre of a crowded club in the middle of the East End of London. The atmosphere was loud with the hustle and bustle of the other people there- delirious with smoke, alcohol and the supply of willing whores. This bothered Basil as some of the less withdrawn prostitutes were performing their business in indiscrete places such as the top of the bar. However, it seemingly didn't trouble Harry (which didn't surprise Basil in the slightest) and Dorian appeared blissfully unaware of it.

"Not the most respectable place," Basil muttered while observing a rather ugly man begin to kiss up the arm of an equal unattractive woman after just handing her some coins.

"Do not be absurd, Basil," Harry chuckled, "There is nothing greater in the world than man experiencing pleasure."

Dorian looking up at this and smiling prompted Basil to say, "Every man to his own opinion."

This made Harry look up smugly at him and put a hand on Dorian's shoulder. This contact between the other two men bothered Basil for some unknown reason. However, Basil couldn't concentrate on this new found feeling of jealousy for too long as something had caught Dorian's eye...

"Oh Harry! Basil, look over there at that girl!"

In unison both Basil and Henry turned round to look at what Dorian had so much focus on.

She was a perfectly acceptable girl in Basil's eyes: long curly cherry hair contrasting with her pure pale skin. If Basil had seen her before he had met Dorian he would have probably considered painting her- but not with the same desire.

"Go speak to her," Basil heard Harry, it sounded like he was very far away.

Basil couldn't help turn back to Dorian and see him wish for this girl. There was a deep stain of want for her in his eyes which Basil couldn't help but feel envious over. Why hadn't Dorian looked this way before upon someone? That someone... possibly... being himself...? His eyes were driving Basil crazy! So much so that he had to get out and away from them.

"Dorian," he suddenly exclaimed, "Your portrait is almost finished! Let us go see it together now."

"Do not be ridiculous Basil," Lord Henry laughed, "We have nowhere near finished here! Anyway, you say the portrait is 'almost finished'; we haven't been able to look upon it through the whole time of its creation so a little more time of waiting shouldn't be a problem!"

"Very well," Basil almost sighed, getting up and putting on his coat and hat, "I shall return and finish it alone."

"I shall be home soon, Basil," Dorian said, averting his gaze from the girl to look up and him and smile, "I want to see my portrait."

"Very well," said Basil, smiling despite himself, back at Dorian, "I shall look forward to your return."

And with that he left.

***

Basil sat under the gaze of the portrait. He had finished it completely over an hour ago and was now waiting on Dorian's return. He hoped upon hope that Harry hadn't helped introduce him to that girl; although there was no obvious reason why he should not... She was, after all, a perfectly acceptable girl...

On the other hand... She did seem rather poor and under Dorian's league. He shouldn't be with someone below him! That would cause a fuss and, in some cases, outrage.

Little did Basil realise had just made up an excuse for Dorian not being with anyone else unless it were him...


	8. Chapter 8 Wandering Minds

Chapter 8

The next morning Basil woke up stiff jointed and wounded. He had foolishly fallen asleep in his studio waiting for Dorian's return... which he hadn't. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, annoyed at his own stupidity in believing that Dorian would actually come back to his studio after a night out with Harry. However, Basil couldn't help but feel a tiny bit hurt as Dorian had never gone back on his word before.

The morning wasn't particularly that nice, the sky was grey and overcast and the smell of rain to come was in the air clogging up the atmosphere. Basil had nothing to do but wait for Dorian yet again; surely he would want to see his finished portrait! He probably just got caught up in the excitement of being re-introduced to London as an adult.

Then again...

Basil couldn't help but let his mind wander; Harry had taken such an interest in the boy, and it was a well known fact that his intentions with relatively new people were very rarely any good- last night was a classic example... What if Harry had taken Dorian some other place in the slums of London after he had left; to another seedy little pub by the riverside, or down a dark alleyway? What if Dorian had got into some sort of trouble (with Harry around it would be very possible)? What if he had looked at someone the wrong way, or went off with some dirty lady of the night who would do anything for a little change in her pocket? God forbid, Basil thought, that Harry would bring Dorian to that sort of thing at all! Then Basil gave a small gasp.

What if Dorian did eventually go and speak with the girl who memorised him so? And what if they disappeared into the night together?

Basil clenched his fists as he felt his insides drop over this last thought. Despite his best efforts could not stop his imagination from running away from him with this idea. His beloved Dorian holding another, kissing gentle and then with more force... Basil fell backwards into his chair as he pictured in his mind what else would follow. Closing his eyes tight he began to feel small tears form in their corners.

It was late afternoon before Basil had final felt able to stand up straight again without trembling with emotions that he could not understand. He could also not understand why he had become so emotional in the first place. After all, it was all perfectly natural for Dorian to look at women in a way that he would not look at other men; he was a young man despite everything! Of course he would begin to wander about women and their strange ways of being able to entice him. And even if Dorian did end up speaking to that girl it didn't mean anything would have happened with them, Dorian was indeed a gentleman and not even Harry could change that.

Still, Dorian had still not contacted him about seeing his finished portrait, or if he had, indeed, arrived home well.

"I suppose I must see him," Basil mused aloud, "Just to make sure all is well and of course to remind him that his portrait is all well and finished finally."

With that he called for his coat and, with a decision he was about to regret, readied himself to walk to Dorian's London home. The weather outside had not improved in the slightest bit. In fact it had gotten a lot worse; rain was pouring down from the heavens which were many shades of dark grey and black. By the time Basil arrived at Dorian's he was soaked through and chilled to the bone. Shivering as he knocked on Dorian's door, waiting for an answer.


	9. Chapter 9 Unanswered Questions

Chapter 9

By the time Dorian answered the door, his butler and maid had been ordered not to answer to anyone, Basil had fallen into a fit of sneezes.

"Basil!" Dorian exclaimed, pulling him in as soon as he saw the state Basil was in, "What are you doing standing on doorsteps in the rain like that? Don't you know you could get ill from such things?"

"I just wanted to tell you," Basil sniffed in a helpless way, but a little thrilled that Dorian was still holding his arm from when he had pulled him inside, "That your portrait is finished and is ready for your viewing."

"Basil don't tell me you walked all this way, in the rain, just to tell me something I already knew," Dorian giggled and, to Basil's disappointment, let go of his arm.

"Yes but," Basil gave out a sigh.

"Dorian," a voice called, "What silly person would be knocking at doors in this weather? Ah Basil, what a surprise." Harry said as he walked into the hallway, "What brings you here in such bad weather?"

"I was just, reminding Dorian that his portrait is ready for his viewing," Basil said, his body stiffening a little with the entrance of Harry in Dorian's home. What was he doing here as well then? Basil was too afraid to ask.

"Basil you look dreadful," Lord Henry said quite casually, "Why don't you come into here and sit by the fire?"

Harry points through the door way he had just come out of.

"Oh yes Basil you must!" Dorian said, holding his arm once again and tugging him into the room where the fireplace was, undeniably, blazing.

Letting go of Basil once again Dorian laughed, "Your clothes are so wet that I can see the water drip off of my very own hands! Perhaps I should lend you something to change into. "

Basil's heart skipped a beat at these last words and it dawned on him that he was in fact shivering rather violently.

"Indeed," Lord Henry chuckled, "You look a complete state in those wet clothes."

Basil looked down at his hands which were slowly beginning to warm up; but the atmosphere in the room just didn't feel right, it was too heavy and difficult to breathe in, "I'm afraid... I'm afraid I must leave," he sighed.

"But you just arrived!" Dorian said, clearly disappointed.

"I only came to remind you that your portrait is finished and that I hope you make some time to come and see it," Basil said bluntly, standing up and walking towards the exit.

"Oh Basil, this isn't all because we didn't return last night to view Dorian's portrait?" Lord Henry pouted as he walked to the door with Basil and into the hallway; Dorian not far behind him, "I am sorry dear fellow but we got a little preoccupied, you know? The wonders of Public Houses and all that!"

Harry smiled a cunning grin at Basil as Dorian chirped in from behind him, "Oh yes Basil, we honestly forgot all about it and by the time we had remembered it was much too late to come and bother you."

Basil's mind flashed back to him sitting in his studio the other night into the small hours of the morning desperately waiting for Dorian, it didn't feel real to him.

"I'm sorry to have made any inconvenience," Basil said as he opened the front door, it wasn't raining now but the air was cold and the sky dim.

As Basil stepped outside he felt a hand on his shoulder, "I shall come and view the portrait as soon as I am able," Dorian almost whispered into his ear which sent shivers down his spine, "Tomorrow, perhaps?"

Basil turned to look into Dorian's eyes, was there something different about them?

"Of course," Basil answered, also in a whisper.

After these last few words were exchanged Basil left, not really feeling any different from when he had arrived.


	10. Chapter 10 When Selling Ones Soul

Chapter 10

The room was filled with anticipation from all three men. The day was a lot nicer than it's previous and light was beaming in through the windows of Basil's studio. Lord Henry was impatiently standing beside Dorian who had insisted of wearing a yellow scarf of Basil's to cover his eyes as a blindfold before he saw his portrait for the first time; he continued to insist that it made its unveiling feel like more of a surprise and made the whole deal a lot more exciting than it already was. This seemed to be true as Dorian couldn't seem to stand still which kept making the scarf over his eyes slip a little over his nose- this he then giggled at as he put it back into proper place. Basil stood on the other side of Dorian, ready to walk him to the portrait which was positioned in front of them, facing the opposite way so all that any of them could see was the back of the canvas.

"Come on Basil! Enough suspense! We are here now and ready to see Mr Dorian Gray's supposedly marvellous portrait!" Lord Henry huffed.

"Oh just a little longer," Dorian giggled as the scarf, once again slipped over his nostrils, "I'm not ready to see it yet! I want more time to prepare myself... And Basil, this scarf truly does smell delightful!"

Basil blushed and, to cover it up, said, "Oh Dorian you've had a whole day and night to prepare yourself. What are you afraid of? It isn't awful I assure you!"

Lord Henry gave a small chuckle and Dorian playfully hit him on the arm, "I'm not afraid of it looking awful, you are a fine artist Basil. I'm just afraid of what it may turn out to be."

"And what is that?" Basil asked, mildly curious as he took Dorian's arm gently (his heart almost skipping a beat at the chance of being able to touch him so freely) and walked him towards the front of the portrait.

"It's just it might..." Dorian stopped mid sentence as Basil carefully pulled off the blindfold which covered his eyes so he could finally view his portrait.

"Oh Basil..." Dorian sighed, like he were in a dream, "It's..."

"What?" Lord Henry panted with irritation as he strode to where the other men were standing, "I want to see it."

However Lord Henry's reaction was very similar to Dorian's when he too saw the portrait for the first time. The three men gazed at the painting of Dorian, everything was ideal about it. It showed a perfectly postured Dorian with flawless china doll like skin with slightly rosy cheeks and eyes that seemed to glisten from the light of the room they stood in.

A small sob interrupted their gaze and both Basil and Lord Henry turned to Dorian.

"What's the matter, boy?" Lord Henry said slightly amused, "Not good enough for you?"

"No," Dorian replied, wiping his eyes using Basil's yellow scarf, "It's too good! I'm... I'm jealous of it!"

"What do you mean?" Basil asked confused.

"Ah," Lord Henry smiled knowingly, "Envious that this portrait shall stay forever young. Whereas, you, of course, will not?"

Dorian looked up at Lord Henry with aspiration in his beautiful eyes, "Yes! That's exactly what it is!"

Basil looked at them both with curiosity and but mainly worry. What kind of conversations had Harry and Dorian had before while he wasn't in their presence? How much influence did Harry really have over Dorian already? What kind of plan was he fabricating? And why hadn't he, Basil, been able to stop it from happening?

"What do you mean, Dorian?" Basil whispered.

"I mean," Dorian paused, thoughtfully, the sudden rush of emotion from early had disappeared completely and his eyes had gone a frightfully blank as he reached out a finger to touch the plump lips of his portrait.

"You would wish to exchange your soul to remain how you are?" Lord Henry enquired thoroughly interested, "How fascinating."

"I disagree," Basil huffed, a little unnerved about the whole situation, "I don't think we should be discussing such demonic practises such as selling ones soul!"

Lord Henry chuckled, "Of course young Dorian never would!"

A still air stood in the room with the three of them.

"Would you?"

The still air in the room suddenly wrapped itself round Basil's body as Dorian answered in one single, seemingly insignificant word as he slowly turned around to face the pair of them with a new found dark presence in his eyes which shot into Basil a small morsel of pure fear in the depths of his heart...

"Yes."


	11. Chapter 11 Revealing

Chapter 11

The scarlet velvet curtain fell gracefully to the ground and was met with applause as Dorian's portrait was revealed to the rest of the world. Basil let out a sigh of relief; he always became nervous at the first showings of new artworks.

"Marvellous! Simply marvellous!" Lady Agatha cheered as the artwork came into view.

"You really have unravelled some before unknown talent with this painting," Lord Fermor mumbled with a hidden trace of wonderment and slight jealousy.

"Yes it is beautiful, Basil," Dorian cried, rushing over to him with a large smile across his face, "Thank you ever so much! Everyone else also seems to really like it."

"They don't like it Dorian, they love it," Lord Henry said, wiping some dust off of his left cuff, "And why shouldn't they, it is a tremendous piece of artwork."

Basil could feel his cheeks beginning to glow which Dorian noticed and giggled at.

"Oh ever the modest Basil," he said while he reached out and ruffled Basil's hair.

Basil's heart momentarily stopped beating and he had to hold his breath.

That touch was so soft, innocent and pure; like when a child holds onto its mother's hand. Even though it was only for a few seconds, Basil felt those sweet, long, thin fingers in his hair; touching him. Everything seemed to slow down around him as Dorian took away his hand. The other guests began to laugh at something Harry had said and Dorian looked at him again with a twinkle in his eyes.

Basil could feel his heart pounding now. Deep in his chest, screaming at him to do something, anything! Anything other than to stand there and act like everything was normal.

He coughed, "Ex... Excuse me I feel a little faint. I'm just going to sit down for a while."

"Oh Basil are you okay? Overwhelmed by the amount of praise you're receiving, bless your dear heart," Victoria smiled, who had rarely said anything the whole afternoon and had just walked over to check on her husband.

"Of course, we shall see you in a little while," Lady Agatha agreed.

Just as Basil turned to walk away to find a place to sit and muse over what had just happened, he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder which made him jump.

"Are you sure you are okay, Basil?" Dorian asked him as he turned back around.

"Let him go, Dorian, he will be fine in a small while. But you have to let him go first," Lord Henry stated, putting a hand on Dorian's shoulder.

"Yes," Basil nodded, "I will be fine. I just need to sit down for a little bit, everything is a little overpowering."

As Basil turned to leave the group for a second time he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy of how easily Harry could feel Dorian. He let out a deep breath as he entered the next room and sat down in an armchair close to the wall with its back to the door.

Everything seemed impossible. Nothing appeared to be what it once was. Everything had changed and no one could know that it had, or else there would be a price to pay.

Or was he just overreacting? Was his greatly used imagination getting the better of him? What had exactly changed?

The answer was nothing. This left Basil only two options of what could be true... Either he was overacting to some unknown causes, which were making him ill and feel differently towards things. Or, he could have felt this the entire time.

Basil buried his head into his hands as he rested his arms on his knees. Nothing was as it had once seemed. Yet, he didn't want the change to go. It felt too good, too right for him. And he was already addicted.

A single tear fell from Basil's eye onto his flushed cheek. He couldn't deny to himself any longer that Dorian meant something to him. But not just mean something to him; he meant everything to him. The world would cease to be, in Basil's eyes, if Dorian were not there to push it along. It was more than just his beauty that Basil now realised he was addicted to; it was his very nature.

His soul.

And Basil prayed to God that he would be given the strength to cope with such an obsession without being caught out.


	12. Chapter 12 Unwanted Messages

Chapter 12

Time moved slowly for Basil, but it did so steadily. He didn't see much of Dorian for the next few weeks as he had thrown himself into a new art project. Alas, it didn't feel as successful as the last one. Nothing ever would, Basil thought to himself as he washed the bristles of the brushes he had been using.

The sun was just setting, which always brought such beautiful light into his studio running across the wooden floor and stroking the busy walls with its presence. Basil sat down on a stool which he kept near his easel. This kind of light always reminded him of the way Dorian appeared to reflect the light off of his pale skin and cause a glow around his body. Although Basil knew this wasn't possible, he was certain that he had seen it many times.

He missed seeing Dorian. He missed him as company in his studio, where everything always seemed like it was coated in glistening golden light, just because Dorian was there. The last time he had seen him had been at the unveiling of his portrait, which felt centuries ago. Basil let out a sigh, he was afraid of what may have become of Dorian since the last time he had seen him. With Harry as a friend and a high influence over him, Dorian could never be too careful.

Basil was to meet with Dorian the next day. He had written to inform that he had very important news to share to everyone. Basil was interested in knowing what the news was, although he couldn't help not being able to shake some nerves about it. What if it was what he most feared? That Dorian had someone else. Of course, this would be something that everyone else would be able to accept perfectly fine. Even if it were a pauper like he'd seen Dorian look at before in such wonderment, would be more tolerable to society than...

He couldn't even think about it. It was such a taboo. No one else could possibly understand or allow it. Ever.

The setting sun had left the room leaving nothing but a slight chill. Basil shivered; he supposed it was time to go and sleep and see what tomorrow had to bring him.

"Engaged?"

Basil could not believe the words that had just spoken. They must have escaped from Dorian's lips without him knowing. Or maybe Basil had just misheard...

Dorian beamed with delight, "Yes."

There was a clear sky outside and the sun kissed the streets of London gracefully, but it was cold.

Lady Agatha was the one to break the shocked atmosphere in the room and asked the single question everyone was thinking, "But, but why?"

"It just happened," Dorian said, still smiling as he took a seat next to Basil, "I told her I love her and she calls me her Prince Charming."

He loves her? That girl, without a penny to her name? The one Dorian had seen for the first time while sitting in a bar with himself and Harry? Why couldn't he have stopped it then? But alas, he was not aware of his own personal situation then...

Those words sank into Basil like a blade and his heart felt like it had been pierced by it. But he couldn't show these emotions, not surrounded by his friends; respectable people. Basil turned away from Dorian, it hurt too much to look at him.

How could someone so beautiful be so cruel?

"Will you come and see her perform tonight?" Basil saw Dorian glance at him from the corner of his eye when he asked.

"I have plans," he lied, Dorian looked down in disappointment.

"So do we," Victoria said, also on behalf of all the other women in the room.

Lord Henry chuckled, "I'll watch her with you Dorian, I love the theatre and it's been sometime since I've seen something respectable."

Dorian's eyes glistened at the thought of having company to come and see his new wonderful bride to be.

"I should leave now," Basil said suddenly, "I hope you enjoy yourself at the theatre, Dorian, you too Harry."

"We certainly will," Lord Henry replied, a sly grin appearing on his face.

"Oh must you leave so soon, Basil?" Lady Agatha said, also rising from her seat so as to say goodbye to her friend.

"I'm afraid I do," Basil lied again, "There is so much work to be done on my new art piece, I simply cannot leave not working on it for much longer."

"Oh of course, Basil!" Lady Agatha smiled, "I hope it is as successful as your last piece."

At this they both turned to Dorian, who smiled innocently back at them.

"Indeed," Basil said, blushing a little, "I hope to see you all again soon."

He bowed his head to everyone to say goodbye and turned to walk towards the door.

"Have a good night, Basil" Lord Henry's said, drifting into Basil's ears as he left.

A twinge of jealousy rose in Basil's chest. It was not fair that Lord Henry was able to make Dorian so happy, only by performing the simplest tasks which would be physically impossible for him to carry out. To make Dorian happy, Basil would do so much more, even if it meant going against his own very soul.


	13. Chapter 13 The Truth is Never Wanted

Chapter 13

That night was one of the longest of Basil's life. His mind could not help but think of Dorian; his Dorian. The one he had painted. The Dorian with the innocent face, the sweet smile and eyes which yearned to learn. Basil prayed to God that these qualities would stay and not be tainted by any dangerous influences. He didn't want Dorian being lead astray, especially by Harry. It would be awful for Dorian's kind nature to be spoiled.

Basil knew that the other thing he was thinking was awful. It was so dreadful that he couldn't even think it. It was an emotion; such a self-interested, egotistic, selfish emotion, that Basil couldn't stand to have within him. The honest truth was... he did not want Dorian to get married to that girl. The problem wasn't the girl herself; even though she was poor, she was beautiful and could make something of herself- if given the chance. No. He didn't want Dorian to get married to any girl.

He didn't want Dorian to ever love anyone...

Unless...

...it was...

...him.

This truth could never come to light. It had to forever stay in the dark. It was an unspeakable matter. If this secret, ever came out it would ruin him; and Dorian. Basil could not live with himself if he were the one to stain Dorian's soul with such sinful notions and passions.

It wasn't until the next night that Basil heard the news of what had happened. The day had been as cold as its previous, but there was no sun in the sky to help warm the hearts of men. However, the sky knows all of what happens in the world, so it is no wonder why it sometimes wears black.

"She performed terribly last night, Basil," Lord Henry was saying as he sat in Basil's studio, smoking a cigar which had come from South America, "An absolutely shocking performance!"

"But you did go to watch her perform?" Basil inquired, none too pleased with Harry smoking around his art projects and materials.

"Yes of course, Dorian wouldn't have it any other way," Lord Henry sighed.

Basil released a sigh of his own, he was glad that Dorian hadn't been led astray the night before.

"We met her afterwards," Lord Henry continued, "Pleasant girl, but a little plain. Dorian was not satisfied with her performance."

"Dorian not content with something?" Basil asked, amazed, "That doesn't sound like him at all."

"Yes, he wasn't his usual self," Lord Henry agreed, taking a long heave from his cigar, "He was quite angry with her."

Basil looked at him with surprise, "He was angry at her? Are you sure, Harry? Could you not be mistaken?"

"No, I'm never mistaken. Everything that one experiences must always be true, otherwise there is no proof of anything."

"But it just doesn't seem like Dorian to..."

"Oh do grow up Basil!" Lord Henry snapped, cutting him off, "Dorian has. He told that girl his thoughts of her performance, as one should always tell a woman when they've done wrong, and then she goes and kills herself in one of the backstage rooms early this morning!"

Basil shot up in his seat, eyes widened with sheer fear and disbelief, "Wh... What?"

"Yes," Lord Henry said, calming himself down with Basil's reaction, "The doctors say she swallowed some of her theatre makeup; incredibly toxic stuff it seems."

"I don't believe you, Harry," Basil said, still in shock as he knew his friend would never lie to him, "Does Dorian know? Is he handling the news well?"

Basil's heart began to beat faster and faster in his chest until her was sure it was going to make a dent in his ribs and chest and come bursting out.

"He is fine," Lord Henry said simply.

Basil looked at him with disbelief. There were times when you just couldn't stand Harry, even though he was a close friend.

"I don't believe you," Basil muttered.

"Then go see for yourself," Lord Henry challenged.


	14. Chapter 14 Unreal Awakenings

Chapter 14

Basil arrived at Dorian's as swiftly as he was able; he resorted to running in the street as there was no other means prepared. It was the dead of night when Basil arrived at Dorian's door. The wind, rushing through the narrow streets of London, had continuously grabbed Basil's cheeks as he ran to his friends so when he arrived his face was red raw. He prayed that Dorian was still awake.

He needn't have worried as Dorian's servant, Victor, opened the door almost immediately and informed him that Dorian was about to make his way out.

"Let me speak to him, please," Basil panted, "Just for a little while."

Victor led Basil to Dorian's drawing room which was, coincidently, where Basil's portrait of Dorian was displayed.

"Sir, a visitor," Victor said as he entered the room, then swiftly left again before his master could ask him to carry out any more strange instructions.

Dorian's back was to Basil, as he sorted out a drink from a tray which had been brought to him earlier. Basil was a surprised as Dorian wasn't one to drink, particularly at such a late hour of the night. He guessed it was due to the grief of losing his fiancé.

Nervously, Basil walked over to where his friend was standing. His hand was out stretched in order to touch his back as he approached, but as he did so Dorian leaped up from what he was doing; which, in turn, made Basil jump.

"Now, now," Basil said in some attempt to settle his nerves, "The answer to your troubles will not be found at the bottom of a bottle."

At this, Dorian turned round to face Basil for the first time that night. There was something unsettling about it. But it was not just the way Dorian had moved, the whole atmosphere of the room felt different, wrong. Unless it had just been from the surprise Basil had unintentionally given Dorian a couple of moments before.

"What troubles?" he answered, in the same sweet voice which he usually carried, but with something else which Basil couldn't quite figure out.

Basil stood motionless for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts while trying to comprehend what was happening.

Finally he spoke, "About the passing of that girl you had so set in your heart to marry."

Dorian shook his head leisurely and a smile which Basil hadn't seen before on him emerged from his plump lips.

"No," Dorian said, "I changed my mind. I was idiotic to want to marry such an untalented, foolish pauper."

Basil stumbled back a little, without intention. Such cruel words had run off from that gorgeous mouth. Such genuinely, pitiless words.

"You don't mean that, Dorian," Basil said, trying to laugh off his unease and disbelief in the situation, "You could not mean that."

"She wasn't who I first thought her to be," Dorian said, carrying on as if Basil hadn't spoken, "Therefore I could not marry her, and I do not care about what happened within her fate after I had decided."

Basil had to reach out for a chair behind him before he collapsed. This wasn't his Dorian. His Dorian was there, just being overpowered by this imposter of this other Dorian. He placed his hands in his head and closed his eyes to think the situation over.

"Oh Basil, you are a fool sometimes!" a voice which sounded like the old Dorian said.

Basil opened his eyes, looked up at the wall which was ahead of him in hopes of seeing that older Dorian which he had captured in a portrait.

But it was gone.

"Dorian?" Basil sounded, completely bewildered now, "Where is my picture?"

Dorian looked at him with an intense stare, which still made Basil's heart beat twice as fast as what was considered healthy, "Your picture?"

"The one I painted of you," Basil clarified, standing up to inspect the wall the painting had been hanging from.

"Oh that!" Dorian said in understanding, moving over next to Basil to also look at the, now empty, wall. Their shoulders brushed against each other as he did so.

"It didn't suit this room."

Basil sharply turned to face him, "What do you mean? Of course it did!"

Dorian looked him in the eye with a cold glare, "Who are you to tell me how to decorate my rooms?"

"I'm sorry Dorian," Basil said, looking at the floor in order to avert Dorian's eyes. He could feel himself become more aware of the situation he was in: alone with in a dark room with Dorian, at considerable closeness. Even of Dorian was acting a little strange; it could all be put down onto him dealing with his grief. Basil could easily, almost instantly, make him feel better.

"I did not mean to intrude," he continued, "I just came to see if you were okay."

"We've already had this discussion," Dorian smiled, as his old self again, taking hold of Basil's arm, lightly, "I have no reason not to be."

"You shouldn't allow yourself to be influenced by people so easily, Dorian," Basil said, shrugging off Dorian's touch as it had given him goose bumps on his arm under his shirt, "No one ever believes all the advice they give."

At this, Dorian smiled at Basil again, as if to say he was being silly.

"You should stay here tonight," he concluded, "It is too late to return home now. I was going to go out for a little while, but your coming here reminded me of just how late it really is!"

"Thank you Dorian," Basil said, as they made their way to the door to the hallway, where Dorian called Victor to make up the guest bedroom for Basil.

The night was not over yet, Basil feared.


	15. Chapter 15 That was just a Dream

Chapter 15

Nothing was as it usually was. There was some strange quality about the room Basil was in. It was, without a doubt, Dorian's guest bedroom which Basil had fallen asleep not too long ago it, but it was different.

Basil was sitting up in the bed, covered in its many duvets and blankets, as it was a bitter night, but he could not help but shiver. The nights hadn't been this icy in a long time. He could hear his teeth chattering noisily in his mouth.

"Goodness," Basil said, and as he did so he could see his own breathe take to the air, "Has a window left open by any chance?"

He made then made the difficult decision to leave the bed, which gave him slightly more comfort, to the hard wooden floor. He hurried over to the window to see if it were the culprit for letting the room become so chilly. As he did so, a floor board creaked under his feet and Basil heard something stir from another room nearby.

This is was when he became afraid. A childish notion, he knew, but the dark was always something he had feared. After discovering that the window was in fact closed, Basil swiftly turned back round to return to the bed, but nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a dark figure occupying the space of the middle of the room.

"Oh Basil, do not be afraid," Dorian giggled, "It is only me."

After his eyes adjusted to the darkness a little Basil realised that, yes it was only Dorian.

"Why did you come in here?" Basil queried, as he made his way back to the bed and sat on it. The room no longer felt as cold.

"I thought I heard you get up," Dorian said, walking over to where Basil was sat and plopped himself next to him, "And I wanted to see if you were alright."

Now that Dorian was closer to him, Basil could see that he didn't look his usual self. He looked older, more worn out, tired. His eyes especially seemed to tell this story; they were looking back at Basil's gaze quite intently.

"I'm fine," Basil said, "I was just seeing if the window had been left open, it was quite cold in here."

"I see, I'm sorry you felt cold," Dorian sighed, leaning back onto the bed, putting his hands behind his head; Basil watched him curiously.

"Come," Dorian began to stroke Basil's back, "Lie back with me."

Basil could feel his whole body pulsing. It was a lot warmer now around where he was sitting. However, he could still feel the presence of some wickedness in the far corners of the room. To get away from this evil was the reason he then leant back to recline next to Dorian. He felt safer there. It seemed the closer he got to Dorian, the further away he felt from the rest of the world and its sinfulness and the warmer his body became.

Dorian turned to face Basil. He was dressed in his sleep wear, like Basil, but his clothes were a lot thinner. He wandered if Dorian had been feeling the cold that night too. It would be no surprise to him if he had.

"That's better," Dorian smiled, as he reached out the same hand that had touched his back and placed it on Basil's chest. Basil flinched; if Dorian kept his hand there he would be able to feel the unnaturally fast beating of Basil's heart. Thankfully, Dorian didn't keep his hand still long enough to be able to feel this. He began to stroke Basil's chest, over the thin layer of clothe which separated their skin from each other. Basil's blood began to pulse faster and faster around his veins.

"Face me," Dorian said, unexpectedly putting his hand on Basil's side and pulling him over to look at him, "Do you still feel cold?"

All Basil could manage was a shake of his head. These acts and feelings, he knew, weren't acceptable. Nevertheless, it didn't feel wrong. This baffled him. If what was happening was such a dark sin, why did it feel so ordinary to him? Or was that the trick of the Devil?

"Good," Dorian said, closing his eyes and nestling closer to Basil, "Neither do I."

So Dorian had felt cold. It was only natural for Basil to then put both his arms around his friend: only to try and keep the cold away, of course. Although, he knew this wasn't the only reason. Dorian gave small whimper, as sign of acceptance and appreciation, as Basil did so.

Dorian's breathe tickled the skin of Basil's neck. Chills escalated down Basil's body and a small throbbing became apparent to him.

"I'm glad," Basil whispered, trying not to say it into Dorian's ear, but secretly hoping he hadn't missed.

Dorian breathed steadily in Basil's arms; he never wanted to let him go.

"Basil," Dorian whispered.

"Yes?" he answered.

"Basil," Dorian said again, "Basil, wake up."

Basil frowned, surely he was already awake.

"Basil!" Dorian said again, more frantically, "Basil! Please wake up!"

Suddenly Basil felt a stinging in his cheeks and his eyes shot open.

"Oh thank God!" Dorian exclaimed. He was leaning forward in a chair by the side of the bed with a worried expression on his face, "I'm sorry I slapped you Basil, but you were moaning in your sleep, which I could hear from my room, and I was afraid you were having a nightmare."

So it had been a dream. It was with some irony that Dorian had called his dream a nightmare. Maybe, Basil thought, if Dorian knew what it had been about, maybe he would actually agree with that word. However, it hadn't been a nightmare to him.

Basil sat up in the bed; he was covered in sweat. He could feel a recognizable heat in his lower body which he hadn't experienced since he was a much younger man.

"I'm fine, Dorian," Basil said in a daze, "Thank you for your concern."


	16. Chapter 16 Charitable Events

Chapter 16

It was early morning when Basil left Dorian's. Neither of them spoke a word of the night before, Basil didn't really want to. The sky told him it that it was going to be a good day. It was clear, without a single cloud in the sky and it was warmer than it had been the whole week. Lady Agatha had organised a charity event for that evening, although Basil couldn't quite remember what. It was possibly a music concert, Basil pondered as he climbed into the cab that Dorian had arranged earlier that morning to take him home in.

"No doubt that Dorian will be performing himself tonight," Basil contemplation aloud, the coachman sniffed, in what could be described as disapproval, at this private remark that had accidently been spoken out loud.

Once Basil arrived home he called his butler immediately to run him a bath. He felt as if paint clung to his skin, as it did sometimes after getting carried away with some of his artwork. In his mind he could see it; red and brown, blood and filth. It felt heavy on his hands and face, cracked in the bizarre heat of his own body. He knew why it was there. Basil knew that he was dirty. That dream was filth and he needed to wash it away. Clean himself from it.

The bathroom was filled with murky steam from Basil's bath. He was reclining in the tub, head resting on the wall behind him. His flesh was red and sore from scrubbing it. The door was locked and he had asked not to be disturbed, no matter what the affair was. There was reason, of course, for Basil to take out such precaution. That feeling, that slight throbbing in his lower region from the night before hadn't gone away. Basil knew it had to go. This would either be by getting rid of it, like most men would, in other words... cold water. But Basil no longer felt that he was 'most men' and so he knew that he would have to give into it. By himself, of course, no one could assist him; it would cause too much shame, even for some common whore to know. It was causing him enough shame now.

Basil let out a suppressed sigh while closing his eyes as he descended into the warmth of the bath. Under the water's surface anything he did would be in complete secret. Slowly, he did something that he hadn't done since he was an adolescent, before he had been taught the fury of God.

Nothing seemed as it usually did, Basil felt as he took his seat in the simple looking hall Lady Agatha's charity event was taking place. His suit irritated his skin and no one seemed to be happy to see him, in fact he had been downright ignored by Harry as he went to greet him. Basil had been right earlier in the cab, Dorian was to play tonight. It surprised him a little for he was not sure that he had ever known before that Dorian could play the piano. Maybe he had just assumed it from his long elegant fingers which could do so much more than just play...

Basil shook his head once violently. His thoughts were getting dangerous and he hurt a little from his bath time. There was no way he could let that happen again! Suddenly, the audience arose and applauded as Lady Agatha came to the stage.

"Hello my friends, thank you all for coming this evening to help support the poor and homeless. I hope you have an enjoyable evening, especially as we have some beautiful young talent to entertain you here tonight..."

Her voice seemed so far away to Basil. He couldn't draw his attention away from the sitter at the piano. Dorian Gray, the very same he had befriended, painted and now... He dare not say it. Everything in the room was out of focus apart from himself and him. Basil closed his eyes as the music began to take shape under Dorian's care. He, Basil, could have easily told anyone how beautiful Dorian was, with or without a talent in the arts of music. Then again nothing could awake him from the slumber that it put him in...

Nothing.

Apart from when it stopped.

A woman screamed and Basil's eyes shot open immediately.

"Dorian! Dorian are you alright? Dorian!" Lady Agatha was crying as she ran back onto stage where Dorian had collapsed.

In a strange sense of calm Basil stood up and also made his way to the stage. As he got there he felt no panic as he saw Dorian out cold.

"It's okay, Lady Agatha," Basil said, kneeling next to her and putting a hand on her shoulder, "I'll take care of him."

Basil's sense of duty felt so strong within him that he didn't even notice the dozens of beady eyes staring at him as the curtain closed.

Basil had once again turned up uninvited to Dorian's home. Only this time he had brought home the owner himself to be nursed back into a state of consciousness.

They were in Dorian's room. Basil had asked for Dorian's butler to call a doctor and not be disturbed by anyone until he arrived. Unfortunately, Dorian's maid came to inform Basil that the doctor was unable to make it there until tomorrow. Basil had thanked her and then sent her away and set up the spare bedroom once again, he would be able to take care of Dorian until then.

"Now, now there, Dorian," Basil said as he tucked, the still lifeless, Dorian in with many blankets, "What are we going to do with you? You can't go around scaring people in public like that by pretending to faint..."

Basil gave a singular sob. The calm he had held so well previously had vanished into the air and now there was no one around for him to mask away his true feelings and fears for. A tightness in Basil's chest without warning took hold and he had to jerk forward to suppress the pain.

"Dorian... Dorian... dear Dorian..." Basil whispered between sobs, "Please be okay."

Basil stood up then wiped his face with a handkerchief that he always kept in a breast pocket. He had to pull himself together. What good would he be to Dorian if he woke up and saw him in this state? He gave out a sigh and put himself back into control. He turned to leave but just before he had turned the door knob he heard a sound from the bed he had just left.

"Basil," a small voice emerged from the pile of blankets, "Basil, don't you leave me alone here."

"Dorian!" Basil exclaimed, running back to the bed side, fighting the urge to take hold of the hand of the handsome figure in it, "You're awake! I'm so glad you're okay."

"No," Dorian said, strength coming back into his words as he spoke on, "I'm not okay. I saw him, Basil. That Jim, I saw him I saw him! He was in that hall and now he has followed me back here! And Basil and Basil I don't know what to do Basil! It's that Jim Sybil's brother! Come to kill me come to kill me because I am the reason for her death! I am the reason..."

Great cries began to soar out of Dorian and the only way Basil could think of stopping it was by grabbing hold of him with both arms and rock him gently.

"It's okay, it's okay. Everything's going to be fine," Basil whispered into Dorian's ear as he cradled him.

"No it isn't! No it isn't!" Dorian weeped. Basil's presence was having a calming effect on him.

Basil closed his eyes. Dorian's body was so close to his and it was because Dorian had called for him himself. He wanted the comfort Basil could give. He wanted the warmth and the care a motherly care that would be given to a small child which Dorian had lacked.

Dorian clasped his arms tighter around Basil's neck and shoulders and rested his head on his chest. He could hear Basil's heart beat which was surprisingly fast. Basil looked down at his friend who was embracing him so naturally. He supposed he could blame nature later for what happened next.

Basil took Dorian's chin, as supple as baby's skin it was, with one shaking hand and lifted it towards his face. There was so much youth and beauty in Dorian's face as Basil leaned in to kiss his sweet lips. They were so soft, warm and wet compared to Basil's own. He never wanted the moment to end. But it did when Dorian's head fell back against Basil's chest. Fast asleep.


	17. Chapter 17 A Welcoming Break

Chapter 17

The next morning Basil left before it was even light. He didn't want to be seen by anyone. He could feel his guilt painted across his face. It would be easy for anyone to see, if given the chance. However, Basil was not prepared to let this chance come about. He even walked the long way home to avoid having to get a cab.

When he did eventually arrive at his own abode the sun had just about peeked her head up into the sky and the birds had begun their choirs for the day. London itself was just starting to get to work, although most of its labours had probably risen at the same time as Basil. Thankfully there hadn't been anyone to see him on the street, to look hard at him and judge him.

There was no one at the door to greet him, so Basil assumed his butler was still asleep. He hung up his coat on the hanger which stood by the door and took a deep breath.

"Thank God for small favours," Basil whispered.

He was just contemplating running himself a nice deep bath again when he noticed a letter on the side table which was next to the front door, on its other side. After briefly examining the letter and soon learned that it was asking for some of his artwork for an exhibition in France. Basil smiled, at last his work was beginning to be recognised in places other select parts of London. The dates of the showing were also given. Working from what he already scheduled, it would be best for him to leave a few days after Dorian's birthday party (What to get for a gift? Basil had no current clue!). That would then give him a couple of weeks to sort everything out, set everything up and have any extra work sent to him from London, if need be. It was also the perfect chance for Basil to disappear for a while.

Basil sighed in relief; he would finally have a break, a time to sort out his head and leave these confusing issues of his behind him. Although he knew he would miss Dorian... He shook his head violently. What he had done the previous night had been wrong. He had taken advantage of a sweet loving boy for his own sinful pleasures. Basil clutched his fists in anger at himself, how could he do such an awful, awful thing? Then again, Dorian had called out to him as if he were his father. Surely paternal love would be acceptable, although they were not related at all by blood.

A stinging sensation became apparent in Basil's palms, as his clenched fingers digged into the flesh of his hands out of fury. How could he think up such an excuse for himself? Such a sick justification. How dare he use the beauty of paternal love to defend his own sick feelings? His actions may have seemed paternal, but his intentions and secret desires were not. No father would hold such sick feelings for his son, as Basil had for Dorian. It would be another crime against nature and God's will, just as Basil's feelings were already. _No need to make your sin worst than it already is_, Basil thought, unclenching his hands. Tiny droplets of blood trickled down to the floor from where the marks his fingernails had made, _you just need to get away_.

It was the afternoon of Dorian's birthday party and Basil had still not been able to think of a suitable gift. Nothing he had thought of or came across seemed good enough for Dorian. It was getting later and later, the streets were becoming less busy at every turn with more shops closing for the night on each.

Basil had almost given up and decided to turn up empty handed and apologetic when he saw it. The perfect gift, it suited Dorian so well.

"Please," Basil said to the shopkeeper, "I'll pay any amount of money for it."

"It yours," the shopkeeper replied, "not much use to anyone, 'part from those who have time on their hands, no one in my family like that, Mister."

Basil gawped in disbelief as he left the shop with his prize. How could such a thing be useless? A quick look at his watch stopped his wandering at the shopkeeper's obvious lack of knowledge for fine things. If he didn't fasten his pace home to get ready he really would be late. And one dressing oneself being the reason for their lateness would be a poor excuse indeed.


	18. Chapter 18 Betraying Senses

Chapter 18

Basil arrived at Dorian's just in time. However, he was surprised to see that many people had already arrived before him. He felt slightly uncomfortable as he walked through each exotically decorated room, through seas of flamboyantly dressed people, searching for Dorian. Basil felt underdressed in his simple grey suit and dark red waistcoat. The only colourful thing he was wearing was an old yellow scarf and that was only because it was what he threw on whenever he felt a minor chill in the air.

Finally Basil saw a face he recognised, "Harry!" he called, "Harry! How are you old friend?"

"Hello Basil," Lord Henry said, strolling over to him, drink in hand, "I'm glad you finally made it, I thought for a while that you weren't going to come."

"What do you mean?" Basil asked confused, taking the glass that Lord Henry passed to him.

"Well you're late," Lord Henry said, taking a bottle of red wine off a nearby table and pouring its contents into Basil's glass, avoiding Basil's eye.

"What?" Basil blinked, "No, I'm not... I arrived the time Dorian asked me to."

Lord Henry looked up at this, "Oh really?"

"Yes..."

Lord Henry smiled and his eyes twinkled as if he had just heard a very funny joke, "You're not being serious, are you?"

"Where is Dorian anyway?" Basil interrupted, wanting to change the embarrassing conversation, "I have his gift to give to him."

"Another gift, Basil? You shouldn't have!" Lord Henry chuckled, "Is it as excellent as the last gift you gave to him? That portrait was quite the piece."

Basil blushed, Harry didn't know about the little home visits Basil had been gifting Dorian with.

"It is something which will reflect his beauty," Basil murmured so only Lord Henry could hear him; the room was fairly full filled with dancers, people laughing and the smell of tobacco and a the scent of a sweeter nature.

"Then it should live up to his standards," Lord Henry whispered back, placing a hand on Basil's shoulder and leaning in closer to his friend, "You should be careful, Basil. He is no longer the same Dorian that you painted. He's no longer ignorant to the ways of the world and the affect he has on it."

Basil found that hard to believe; every time he looked at Dorian all he saw was the innocent face of an angel, trapped in a cruel and wicked world. Of course he mentioned none of this to Harry.

"Where is Dorian?" Basil repeated, coldly.

"He's probably upstairs," Lord Henry said, letting go of Basil and waving back to people he had left when going over to talk to him, "I'm sure he'll be please to see you."

Lord Henry turned at these last few words and leisurely walked back to his previous company. Basil was left alone to decide what he should do next.

Basil had searched the whole of Dorian's house after speaking to Harry, in a search for Dorian. As Harry had suggested upstairs, Basil had taken a look in Dorian's bedroom, but he was not in there. He gave a sigh of relief at this and had headed to look outside in the gardens to continue his search. It wasn't only until he was unsuccessful in finding Dorian outside that Basil realised he hadn't checked the guest bedroom that he had stayed in, in that first night of his sinful thoughts towards the boy. He was beginning to become deeply confused as to what why it appeared impossible to find Dorian.

As Basil stood outside the guest bedroom door he could hear gentle movement, soft moans and small giggles. Finally, he found the courage to open the door and continue looking for Dorian. After all, he did have a gift to give him and a small favour to ask.

The room was dimly lit and Basil's eyes stung and watered from the smoke in it, making it near impossible to see. Immediately, Basil could feel everything stop in the room. All he could hear was the hushed, nervous breathing from a small group of people. Suddenly, someone sounded a loud laugh to try and break the unexpected tension. The laugh had been light hearted and had seemed familiar, but it carried a dark undertone.

"Who is that?" a strange voice chuckled, all with the same faint sense of the well-known, "I'd asked not to be looked for, called upon or disturbed!"

There was a small chorus of the same female giggles at this. It was as if they knew it were only a joke but also had a little truth in it.

Basil squinted as his eyes began to adjust to the light, "It's me Basil, Dorian is that you?"

Slowly, Basil was beginning to make out a faint figure reclining on the guest bed, surrounded by luxuries female silhouettes. Bits of discarded cloth, on the floor, enclosed them all. However, as soon as he had spoken the central figure had shot up and had started to walk towards him.

"Oh Basil," the sweet voice of Dorian Gray arose, "Would be so kind to wait outside for me? One of my party guests had become upset, someone had spilled a drink on her dress, so I came up here, with a few of her friends, to let her change and cheer her up a little. It was a very expensive dress."

Basil re-opened the door behind him and stood outside. The sudden light of the hallway made him blink. He gave a deep breath and felt that his cheeks had gone red. That story could be true on some level, and Basil knew which level he wanted it to be. So he believed it to be true to the word.

However, before the door behind him closed, he heard Dorian say, "I'll be back soon sweet ladies, thank you for your patience. Keep each other happy while I'm gone." But even this didn't cause Basil to doubt his, always truthful, Dorian.


	19. Chapter 19 Awakening Old Emotions

Chapter 19

"I'm so sorry about just now, that was no way to greet an invited friend to your home," Dorian was saying, as they walked towards the balcony which overlooked the main hall.

"I was invited, wasn't I, Dorian?" Basil asked, watching the sea of dancing figures bounce and wave beneath them, "It just seemed that some of your other guests arrived a lot earlier than I did... I'm just wondering whether..."

Dorian placed a delicate hand on Basil's shoulder. Basil trembled under the touch, but forced himself to keep looking at the swirling life below them.

"I thought you knew about the time change, I asked Harry to tell you," Dorian said, Basil could feel his eyes gazing at him softly, "I'm sorry that you didn't get the message."

Dorian gave his shoulder a small squeeze and then let it go. Basil silently gasped at the slight pressure and had to hold back a small moan. _Imagine what else his hands could do_... He shook his head quickly, now was not a time for those thoughts, especially as he was in the company of the person who brought them out of his mind.

"Oh Basil," Dorian sighed, "All I seem to be doing is apologising to you today! I'm very sorry about it. I hope that you enjoy the rest of the party."

Dorian turned to walk away when Basil exclaimed, "Of course!"

"What is it?" Dorian asked, turning back quickly to face his friend, who was now looking back at him and not off into the distance.

"It's your birthday party, Dorian," Basil explained, "I have your gift."

Basil pulled out a small package from his inside jacket pocket and passed it to Dorian. Dorian took it; their fingers brushing slightly as he did so.

"Oh Basil! You are such a lovely friend! I've never met someone like you before and I doubt I ever will!" Dorian said, the excitement showing on his face (his cheeks were becoming a little pinker than their usually tone) as he took his gift out of the package.

"It's beautiful, Basil," Dorian said, marvelling at the hand held mirror which reflected his own amazed face in its slivery smooth surface.

Basil took Dorian's hand to turn the mirror over, "Look at the back, it has some fine carving work."

Dorian nodded in admiration at the artwork carved into the wood of the back of the mirror. A heart was imprinted in the centre, paved in an outline of gold. Twisting around the heart were two roses on either side; their thorny stems pressing, but not breaking the heart that they were wrapped around. These too were lined with gold.

"Basil, it really is perfect," Dorian sighed, tracing the roses and the heart with his index finger, "You give me such wonderful things: a fine friendship, a beautiful portrait and now this."

Dorian held up the mirror to his face, turning it to look at himself in its reflection, "If only there were some way to thank you..."

Basil exhaled quietly, now would be a good time to ask him that favour.

"Actually, Dorian, there is something."

Dorian looked up as he spoke.

"That portrait of you, I was wondering whether I could borrow it for a while. Not for very long, of course, just for a few months for it to be displayed in an exhibition of my work in France."

Dorian put his new gift down on the side of the balcony and studied Basil's face closely.

"I have already sent off my other work and organised a place for myself to stay in France, in fact I'm leaving in a few days," Basil carried on hurriedly, he did not like the way Dorian was looking at him, his eyes fell back down to the scene below as he continued to speak, "You could then send the portrait off when I've arrived. I won't let any harm come to it, it is my finest piece of work."

Dorian smiled and shook his head lightly, "I'm afraid I can't let you borrow it."

Basil turned to him to protest but was shocked when Dorian held his face in both his hands.

"Is there any other favour that I could do for you?"

Basil could feel his cheeks begin to burn; Dorian's hands were so soft, like a child's. He knew his cheeks were getting redder and redder and that his suit trousers were beginning to get slightly tighter. But Dorian did not let go, instead he giggled at the suddenly struck face Basil was pulling.

Basil's hands shook as he lifted them to take off Dorian's hands. Instead, Dorian took them and put them on his own face. Basil's heart nearly skipped a beat. He was touching that perfectly formed, china doll face. It was so smooth under his trembling hands. Without warning, Dorian moved closer to Basil until their whole bodies were half an inch apart; one small move and Dorian would be able to feel the affect he was having on Basil.

Dorian's hands slid down to Basil's shoulders as he leaned in closer still. Their lips touched for a split second. Basil knew he had stopped breathing; his eyes stunned and wide were starring at Dorian's, who had closed his as he had moved in for the kiss. Dorian half opened his eyes, lazily, to look back at Basil. A small smile played on his lips as he moved for Basil's neck.

Their bodies were touching now, pressed firmly against each other. There was no way that Basil could hide his erection from Dorian now. As Dorian bit and sucked at Basil's neck he felt something else hard rub against his leg. Dorian wasn't even trying to conceal his erection as he pushed his lips forcefully back onto Basil's. Basil could hardly take anymore.

Suddenly, Dorian pulled away. Basil had to stop himself moaning in disappointment. He looked his younger friend straight in the eyes. They were gleaming, the whole of Dorian's face was, but there was something else in them which Basil hadn't seen before. This thought quickly disappeared as Dorian leaned in again to Basil's ear.

"Any favour?" he whispered, sending chills down the hairs of Basil's neck, all the way down his spine.


	20. Chapter 20 Dirty Secrets Come to Light

Chapter 20

Basil moaned. He couldn't take it anymore. Before he knew what his body was doing, his mouth locked onto Dorian's again, this time open and wet, ready to take in a tongue. Dorian groaned in pleasure, losing himself in Basil's mouth which tasted surprisingly sweet. Dorian's hands fell onto Basil's bum, making him moan loudly into his mouth. Basil's hands were searching the whole of the body of which he held; taking care not to hurt it, but making sure to memorise each and every bone and muscle. Dorian rubbed his cock against Basil's, causing unbearable friction in the cloth of their clothes.

Dorian pulled away again, to Basil's disappointment, but this time only to undo his trousers. Basil could feel his penis pulse in anticipation. He knew what they were doing was sinful, wrong and immoral. But he wasn't going to stop, not even if God appeared himself to tell him to do so.

Dorian groaned quietly, "Lie down," as he pushed Basil onto a futon which overlooked the balcony, but fell just under its banister. No one from below would be able to see what was going on above them if they looked up.

Basil did as he was told and lay back onto the cushions. He was sweating heavily and needed to take care of the uncomfortable feeling in his, now too tight, trousers. Dorian crouched over him, pulling down his own trousers to release his own throbbing member. Forcefully, Dorian held Basil's fingers and pulled them to his mouth. Basil sucked them as hard as he could until Dorian pulled them out again. Slowly, Basil drew his, now lubricated fingers, to the tip of Dorian's already wet head. Then rubbed. Dorian gave a small moan of pleasure as his back arched, pushing himself closer to Basil; wanting more.

Dorian drew closer, once again, to Basil's ear, tickling it, and whispered, "Suck it."

Basil stopped rubbing for one moment and looked up into Dorian's eyes. In those perfect ovals he saw lust, and reflecting in their pupils he saw the same emotion in his own face. He nodded. Dorian kissed him again, hard, on the lips; forcing Basil's mouth open and searching every part of his mouth- trying to take in and remember its taste. Basil continued to move his hands as Dorian did this: his fingers lightly stroking the head, but his other hand pumping the shaft.

"Suck it now," Dorian ordered; louder than before, Basil paused for a second, out of fear of them being heard, "Now."

Dorian put his arms around Basil's body and moved them both around. Now Basil lay on top of him. It brought him such delight to feel someone else's body pressed up so closely to his own. It delighted him even more to be able to feel Basil's full blown erection, still concealed in its clothing, throbbing next to his own legs. He laughed as he undid his shirt, watching Basil's face go an even darker crimson than it already was.

His body was flawless, Basil thought while looking down at Dorian's chest, absolutely perfect. His skin was soft and white like clouds, apart from two small brown nipples; identical. His body was the ideal for many. Dorian's cock was resting, upright, just over his belly button; Basil had had to abandon it when they had turned over.

"I want to feel you, Basil," Dorian smiled, as he slowly began to unbutton Basil's shirt, "I want to feel us pressed together, skin to skin, with no boundaries."

Basil gulped as Dorian pulled off his shirt for him and slowly made his way to unbutton his trousers too. These he pulled down with great care, pulling Basil into his body after he did so. Their bodies were finally touching. Heat bounded off them both. Basil kissed Dorian sweetly, for the first time, knowing that in all this madness that there was something there. Dorian massaged Basil's back and buttocks, squeezing it playfully while returning the kiss.

The tension was building up for Basil; he could feel himself coming closer and closer to that wonderful state of pure bliss. But he knew what he had to do, as Dorian wasn't quite ready to finish just yet. Slowly, Basil began to kiss down Dorian's slender neck. He didn't want to suck or else he might leave a mark, so only light kisses were applied. Dorian moaned in appreciation as Basil began to take the small tip of his right nipple and suck on it delicately. Basil fingered the other as he did this.

Finally, Dorian couldn't take the teasing anymore, "I said, suck it now!" he groaned, he had never felt this kind of pleasure before. Basil nervously nodded. His body began to tremble as he at last took Dorian's member into his mouth.

It was only the head at first, but Basil licked it and loved it as if it were some sort of food. Dorian rammed his hands into Basil's hair, pulling through it as he tried to contain his excitement and pleasure. I_t tastes rather salty_, Basil thought to himself. Suddenly Dorian pushed his head downwards, trying to make him take in more. Basil forced himself not to gag from the surprise and moved his mouth from the head onto the side of the shaft; here he sucked, as hard as he could. Dorian's groans confirmed that he wasn't doing a bad job. In a curious state of mind, Basil then began to lick lower and lower until he came to Dorian's testicles. Basil was unsure of what to do, but he didn't want to stop. Stopping would mean that he wouldn't be fulfilling Dorian's wishes, and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he deprived his Dorian of something.

Interested of the reaction it would give, Basil slowly reached out a hand and gentle squeezed. It felt so bizarre to him, but at the same time so brilliant. Dorian exhaled loudly, a moan caught in his throat. This encouraged Basil to do more, as long as he was pleasing Dorian, he would do anything! Hurriedly, Basil moved his mouth towards the two balls; engulfing them one after the other- having a quick suck on one first before swapping to the other. Dorian pushed himself further into Basil's mouth willingly. Tiny tears began to build up in the corner of Basil's eyes.

"Suck...ah... my... ah... cock... Basil," Dorian said, between moans, "I'll give something... back to you... ah... if you... do... I... promise..."

Dorian gave a loud groan. Basil shot up slightly, leaving Dorian unattended. The tears were still in his eyes, but he prayed Dorian wouldn't notice.

"Okay," Basil replied weakly, nodding. His body was still shaking from the danger and excitement of the situation. He could scarcely believe what was happening. Maybe it was all a dream? But none of his previous dreams of the situation had felt so vivid and real before.

Gradually, Basil began to, once again, suck Dorian's head. Moans of pleasure escaped the lips of his loved one as he did so. Dorian, once again, started to massage Basil's buttocks. Only this time, he lubricated his fingers in his mouth first. Basil was too busy pleasuring Dorian that he didn't even notice. Not until the wet fingers had already slid up into his arsehole. Basil's eyes widened in shocked surprise. He would have sat up, too, if Dorian hadn't put a hand on his head to keep his head down and his mouth working.

"Shh," Dorian soothed, stroking Basil's hair with his free hand as he worked his fingers with the other, "This feels amazing. You are amazing, Basil."

Basil starred at him, wide eyed, cock still in his mouth. He was actually doing it, it was fulfilling one of his dirtiest, disgraceful, disgusting dreams ever; yet his subject was enjoying it... And asking for more. Basil smiled and continued sucking. Dorian circled Basil's entrance with his fingers and entered again. His other hand began to slowly pump his own cock in Basil's mouth, causing more friction.

Basil tensed. Whatever Dorian was doing it felt too good to be true. Occasionally, Dorian hit a spot he didn't even know he had and his whole body shuddered with anticipation and pleasure.

"Touch yourself, Basil," Dorian grinned, eyes glistening at the thought, "I want to see you pleasure yourself."

Basil's closed his eyes in shyness; he could feel his ears slowly turn red as they began to burn with embarrassment. This wasn't supposed to be for him, it was for Dorian, all for Dorian. It would be wrong to pleasure himself. If he acknowledged the fact that he was actually enjoying himself, as Dorian was, he would have to accept they would both go to hell.

And this just made him want to do it more. Anyway, would it be so wrong for Dorian to know how just how much he really meant to him? Hurriedly, Basil made a grab for his own member, vigorously pounding at it. Performing the act which he had only ever done before alone in the bath. Dorian smiled, leaning back, as he heard this familiar sound. He pushed Basil off of his cock and held up his chin, he didn't want Basil to split his energy in pleasuring them both.

"I want to watch you pleasure _your_self," Dorian emphasised, smiling knowingly at how easily he could read Basil's emotions.

Basil nodded shyly as he began to pump himself even faster. He closed his eyes in order to avoid showing Dorian the embarrassment he was feeling. He'd never imagined that this, his darkest desire, would actual come true; he couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious. Basil could feel Dorian's fingers slip out of him and begin to: run through his hair, across his forehead, around his ears, down his cheeks. His touch made Basil want to burst! Although he missed the sensation of having Dorian inside him. He pumped himself harder and harder, letting small groans escape from his lips. Until...Basil closed his eyes, he could feel it coming, again.

Dorian sensed Basil's desperation and pushed his hands away from him. Basil opened his eyes in surprise, a sudden stop coming to his racing heart.

"Let me!" Dorian said excitedly, "Let me finish you off!"

Basil could feel his heart begin to race again as Dorian slowly took hold of him, with both hands. One hand pumped while the other stroked the head. Basil moaned. He didn't have much time left. He could feel it build up inside him. He hadn't realised that his body was moving in the same motions as Dorian's hands. He had such soft hands...


	21. Chapter 21 Leaving the Old

Chapter 21

Basil gave one final thrust of his hips and came, all over Dorian's stomach and chest. Dorian laughed light heartedly. Basil could feel himself burn with shame. Dorian took the scarf from Basil's neck and wiped himself down. Basil quickly did up his trousers and tried to make himself look acceptable again. Suddenly, Dorian stood up, forcing Basil to do so too.

Dorian had just turned to walk away when he realised that he was still holding Basil's scarf. He turned back and put the scarf over Basil's shoulder, letting his hand linger their longer than it needed to. They shared a momentary glance before Dorian turned again, this time to leave for good. Basil fell back onto the seat in shock. This time alone.

Had it been a dream? No, Basil thought, it couldn't have been, the aching in his heart proved that. Why did he just leave, without saying one word? Of course, Basil wasn't surprised that he had, they were at risk of being found out at any moment. It was for the best, it was that good that Dorian was considerate enough to leave as soon as he could; one of them had to stay aware of the situation. Basil knew that if Dorian hadn't known when it was time to leave, they would still be sitting together, and would have definitely been seen by someone.

He didn't know how long he stayed there. He didn't know if he'd ever move again if it hadn't been for Lord Henry calling out to him as he walked up the nearby staircase from the hall below.

"I was wandering where you'd got to," Harry smiled as he went to sit by Basil, handing him a wine glass half full of a deep red liquid, "What are you doing up here alone?"

Basil loosely held the wine glass between his legs, barely thinking about its contents but appreciating the gesture.

"I wasn't alone," he mumbled.

"Then why are you alone?" Harry said, taking a gulp from his own glass and grimacing at the taste, "It isn't like you to sit alone in an empty room when there's a party full of beautiful people going on."

Basil gave a small smile, leaning forward, forgetting his troubles for the moment as he was in the good company of a close friend, "No more, Harry, no more."

Lord Henry looked at him in surprise, "What happened? You no longer find inspiration for your art in beautiful things?"

"No," Basil answered almost immediately, the grave conflicting emotions of regret and longing coming over him again, "It is lost."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Lord Henry laughed, slapping him on the back, making Basil spill his crimson wine onto the cream carpet. However, neither took any notice as Basil had suddenly turned sharply towards Lord Henry at the touch of his hand.

"I am not being ridiculous," Basil said, an anger growing in the pit of his stomach, "What do you know about art and inspiration? What do you know about anything? Everything comes so easily to you, Harry, what do you know about real life?"

Lord Henry starred at him momentarily and then gave a knowing grin, "You can't ever have him, Basil, you know that don't you?"

Basil stood up, taken aback, dropping his wine glass as he did so, "I don't know what you're talking about, Harry." He said walking over to the balcony and leaning on it, watching the swirl of the world below; it all felt so far away.

He hadn't intended to look for Dorian, but he found him. He was surrounded by women, seductively dancing around him. The ugly sensation of jealous began to surge through him, its roots flowing from an area of him that he didn't even know that he had.

Lord Henry also stood up, moving over to the balcony too. He lay a comforting hand on Basil's shoulder, "You do know, Basil. I may not know anything about 'real life' but I know more than enough about people's private lives, even when they are kept as well as yours. Sometimes it's just written on a person's face, there without a cause. It cannot be seen by anyone else, Basil, so you do not worry yourself over it. However, those that learn to read people know. Therefore, I know about your feelings, Basil, and he knows too. In fact, he knew before I did."

Basil shook under his friend's hand. Harry was lying, he had to be, otherwise all his hard work to keep his secret would have gone to waste, "How long... how long has he known?" Basil asked, watching Dorian through saddened eyes.

"For a long time," Lord Henry said, removing his hand from Basil's shoulder and too began to watch Dorian and his dancers.

"You're wrong," Basil whispered, "Dorian would never treat anyone in such a way. He would never be so unkind and hurtful. His love would never be given out so lightly and still be able to be received so easily."

"Oh Basil..." Lord Henry began, "You don't know how little you know."

"Don't patronise me, Harry," Basil spat out, turning to face him, "I know more than you think."

The night air was cold, yet refreshing. Basil had left the party not long ago in order to try and clear his head. It wasn't going according to plan, his mind kept flashing back to Dorian: his breathe on him; the touch of his bare skin on his own, his taste on his lips, tongue, throat... Basil shook his head violently. It was over, he mustn't think about it anymore, unless he wanted to drive himself insane. Basil sighed and he closed his eyes. Insanity it is, he thought to himself.

He knew he had to go back. He had to see Dorian was last time, before he went to France. He did not know if he should ever return, there was no reason to. It would be enough for him just to see his sweet Dorian's face one last time. Yes, Basil thought, I could never show my face to him again without feeling shame. He would see him one last time, just to say goodbye and it would be enough to last him the rest of his life. He could easily use wanting to borrow the portrait he had painted of Dorian as an excuse to see him this last time before he left maybe forever.


	22. Chapter 22 Farewells

Chapter 22

When Basil had finally gathered enough courage to return Dorian's home it was the darkest hour of the night. He no longer felt cold, his nerves had got the better of him and his whole body was burning with anticipation to see Dorian again.

To Basil's surprise, Dorian's door was still unlocked. Basil smiled at Dorian's naïveté. Slowly he pushed open the front door into the grand hallway. His footsteps echoed on the historic wooden floor as he made his way to the grand hall where the party had been held. It appeared everyone had left.

The hall where the party had been held was dirty and smelt of alcohol as well as other sweeter substances. Basil coughed; the air was too stuffy, uncomfortable, unpredictable. Basil turned to leave the room when he heard a sound on the stairway.

"Dorian," Basil gasped as he turned back around to face the staircase, "You gave me a shock."

Dorian had changed from his party suit; he was now wearing a slimming dark blue suit with a silver waistcoat. His hair was damp, most likely from having a washed his hair after the party had ended.

"I thought you had already left," Dorian said walking down the stairs towards him, "I'm glad that you hadn't."

"No, I just went out for some fresh air," Basil smiled, he couldn't help himself.

"Well I'm afraid you came back a bit late," Dorian laughed, stroking Basil's arm, "I'm sorry to tell you the party's over."

Basil could feel his cheeks begin to blush.

"Actually, Dorian," Basil said, walking away from Dorian to try and avoid the inevitable situation, "I returned here to ask for that favour again."

Basil sensed the grin on Dorian's face as he felt his body come up behind him.

"I told you before, Basil," Dorian said, putting his arms around Basil's waist and shoulder, leaning into Basil's ear, his lips softly touching the lobe, "I cannot allow you to take my portrait."

Basil pushed Dorian away, trying to fight the impulse he felt deep within him whenever he felt his touch.

"You see I don't think you quite understand what I'm asking, Dorian," Basil said, flushed, avoiding Dorian's gaze "I do not wish to keep it, it was a gift from me for you, I merely wish to borrow it."

He looked back up to Dorian who was starring calmly at him, his eyes never leaving Basil's body.

"Basil," Dorian smiled, strolling towards him, "It is you that does not understand."

Basil shut his eyes tight, he knew Dorian was talking down to him but he couldn't do anything about it. He loved Dorian too much to care how he treated him. When he re-opened his eyes he saw that Dorian had come a lot closer to him.

"Do not sulk, Basil," Dorian said, his youthful face serious for a moment, "It isn't attractive."

Dorian pulled the yellow scarf from Basil's neck (Basil had put it round him while walking the night as it had kept him warm and smelt of Dorian) and draped it around his eyes, "Do you want to see something, Basil? Something I have never allowed anyone to see before?"

Basil gulped, he could feel Dorian draw closer to him; their lips were almost touching. Oh what he would give to feel those lips upon him once more! He nodded uncertainly; perhaps his agreement to Dorian's wishes would allow them to perform more sinful acts together.

"Very well," Dorian whispered into Basil's mouth before quickly tightening the scarf around his eyes like a blindfold, "You must keep a hold of me Basil; I shall keep a hold of you too."

He felt Dorian's hands take hold of his and place them around his waist as he turned. Truthful to his word, Dorian's hands did not leave Basil's as they made their journey. It wasn't a far way away, but involved much climbing of stairs, some of which feeling very narrow, and Basil was afraid that he would fall in his blindness. But Dorian made sure it was not so.

When they reached their destination Dorian let go of him for a few moments. It frightened Basil, but he trusted Dorian enough not to move. He heard the close and lock of a door, footsteps and the sound of a heavy material fall to the floor. Then Dorian was back on him, his arms twisted around his body. Basil's body pulsed with eagerness; he did not know what awaited him.

"Okay, Basil," Dorian hissed seductively into his ear, "Do you want to see it?"

Basil did not know what to say, he nodded clumsily. Gradually the scarf was pulled from his eyes and fell back round his shoulders. Dorian stood in front of him as he blinked a little to adjust his sight to the room's light. It was dim and lit by only a single candle which sat on a table next to the portrait...

Basil stepped back in sheer terror and shock, "Dorian, what is this monstrosity?"

"Do you like it?" Dorian grinned, his perfectly shaped teeth glistening in the candle light, "We created it together."

"No," Basil stated, dismayed, "This is not my portrait... This is not my portrait of you!"

What stood before him was a sight that Basil could not begin to explain. What was once a life like picture of Dorian Gray was a demon from Hell. The pure china doll like skin was now covered in paint smears of red, brown and black. The perfectly shaped peaceful mouth was now morphed in to an ugly sneer. Its lips were formed from cracked paint; dirty yellow, rotting teeth were too now painted in. It's once lushes hair was now grey, split and filthy with harsh brush strokes. Its eyes were now nothing more than bottomless empty black dots created by powerful thick ink. Infection could be seen across the whole body and actual fungus was growing from the once smartly decorated clothing. But underneath all the ugliness still stood the body of Dorian. The frame too was the same as it had been at its revealing. And the brush strokes were undeniable Basil's own hand's work.

"But it is the same portrait, Basil," Dorian giggled, "and you know it is."

"Dorian..." Basil gasped, "We must get rid of it! It must be destroyed! It's horrifying!"

"Do you find me horrifying?" Dorian shot at him, "This is what I look like; this is what my soul looks like. Do you not understand, Basil, that you have made me ugly!"

"No," Basil whispered, unable to look away from the deformed figure in front of him, building strength into his words as he spoke, "This is not you Dorian. This does not have to be what your soul looks like. You are beautiful, Dorian, you are beautiful! You always have been and always will be... to me..."

Basil's last words came out in a quiver. Should he finally admit to Dorian how he truly felt about him? He could feel his heart pound in his chest. Would it really make a difference at all?

"Basil," Dorian hissed again in his seductive voice, which nearly made Basil's knees give way, "What does it matter what you think? You aren't the world."

Dorian trod closer to Basil as he continued to speak in the same, heart melting, voice, "What does matter is that you realise you made me this way."

Dorian's hands slipped around Basil's neck like a snake coiled around its prey, "Don't you know? You were the one to make me vain?"

Basil drew his eyes away from the portrait for one moment to look at the young man who had placed himself upon him. Even with all these cruel words he was still having the same effect on him. Basil could feel the sweat running down his forehead and into his eyes. His heart was so loud he was sure that Dorian would be able to feel it, let alone hear it. Its unsteady beat brought life to the suspense which he could feel in the room.

"Dorian," he whispered as he brought his lips closer to his lovers, "I want to help you."

Dorian laughed, squeezing Basil's body to him as he did so, doubtlessly feeling the poke of the stiffness in his trousers. Suddenly, his lips and teeth were on Basil's own. The kiss was hard and Basil could feel the blood run down his chin as Dorian drew back.

"You have done enough," Dorian said, looking at Basil straight in the eye. In them he could have sworn he could see the innocent boy who used to be, the one he fell in love with, trapped inside this tormented soul. It was as he was looking into these eyes that he heard the crack of breaking glass.

"You've seen too much, Basil," Dorian said sadly, "Let what I do next be a gift from me to you, although really it is still going to be done by a gift from you."

Basil looked at him in terror. This was not his Dorian. Whoever this man was that stood in front of him was not his Dorian. Yet it was his Dorian: his skin was Dorian's; his body was Dorian's; his facial features were Dorian's; his smell was Dorian's and inside this madman that stood before him was his Dorian.

A sudden sharp pain unexpectedly took hold of Basil's chest. The pain increased. Basil gasped for air, but found it impossible as another unexpected pain took a hold of his neck and throat. His eyes had gone black, but the vision was slowly coming... back and forth... back and forth... He searched for Dorian. Another stab took hold of his chest, this time much closer to his heart. It was surreal. He could feel a hard surface behind his head. It came to him, steadily, that he had collapsed. The ground felt so comforting and cold to his hot, bleeding body. But he wanted Dorian.

Sobs filled the still air. Basil tried to look up for the one causing the sound but he could not see anything; only black.

"Basil..." the voice cried, "Oh poor Basil."

"D... Dor...Dorian..." Basil stuttered, he could now feel his head being cradled in the strong arms of a young man, "D...Dorian, is th...that y...you?"

A hand from one of the arms slowly began to caress his cheeks.

"Yes, it's me," the voice sobbed, "I'm so very sorry, Basil. I didn't mean... I didn't want..."

"Shh," Basil comforted, Dorian obviously needed him, "It isn't your fault."

"But you're dying, Basil! And it is my fault!"

"No," Basil reassured, "It's just my time."

"I'm so sorry..."

"Sh-shhh," Basil coughed, a little blood coming up with it, "It's okay my love."

"It's just you know too much,"

"I understand," Basil sighed, the world was becoming dimmer and all Basil wanted to do now was shut his eyes and go to sleep, all other worries had gone from his head, "I forgive you."

"Basil..."

"Dorian..." Basil interrupted, "I love you."

The last thing Basil remembered was the soft lips on his own, the sweet scent of fresh air and the most beautiful words he'd ever heard...

"Basil, I love you too."


	23. Chapter 23 An Alternative Ending

Author's Note: _As I'm sure some of you lovely readers may know already, I have decided to write an alternative ending to this story. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it! That also goes for the story as a whole! Thank you everyone so much who as read and reviewed this work, my very first Fanfiction writing on my own! If you have been reading but have yet to review then I would very much appreciate it. Any feedback is good feedback, and I would love to know what you all think. If you've read this far I couldn't have done too badly! Please enjoy this very last chapter of mine. Much love for Dorian and that sweetheart Basil. 3 _

Chapter 20 Dirty Secrets Come to Light

Basil could feel his heart begin to race again as Dorian slowly took hold of him, with both hands. One hand pumped while the other stroked the head. Basil moaned. He didn't have much time left. He could feel it build up inside him. He hadn't realised that his body was moving in the same motions as Dorian's hands. He had such soft hands...

Chapter 23 An Alternative Ending

Basil gave one final thrust of his hips and came, all over Dorian's stomach and chest. Dorian laughed light heartedly. Basil could feel himself burn with shame. Dorian took the scarf from Basil's neck and wiped himself down. Basil quickly did up his trousers and tried to make himself look acceptable again. Suddenly, Dorian stood up, forcing Basil to do so too.

Dorian had just turned to walk away when he realised that he was still holding Basil's scarf. He turned back and put the scarf over Basil's shoulder, letting his hand linger their longer than it needed to. They shared a momentary glance before Dorian turned again, this time to leave for good. Basil could not help himself; he had to say something, anything! Just so he could make sure that what had just happened had been real and not just one of his many unspeakable dreams.

"Dorian..." he croaked.

Dorian turned back around. Basil's heart lifted, glad that he had not been ignored. The younger man just watched at him momentarily and then gave a small, satisfied, smile before turning to leave yet again. As he descended the nearby stairs, to rejoin his birthday party, he began to laugh light heartedly. Basil felt the colour in his already red cheeks deepen. Seconds after Dorian's head had disappeared a new one emerged. Lord Henry was strolling towards him with two glasses of wine.

"What did he find so hilarious?" Lord Henry smiled as he passed Basil one of the glasses of wine and sitting down onto the futon, with no knowledge of what had just taken place on it.

Basil sat next to his good friend and gave a small shrug, "I have not a clue."

Lord Henry glanced at him and then took a nip of his wine, "That is very odd seeing as there is no one else up here."

"Maybe he remembered something that he found quite amusing," Basil answered a little too quickly, Harry was making him nervous. Why was that? He knew nothing and would not know unless he decided to share; which he wouldn't.

"Perhaps," Lord Henry stated bluntly, obviously disappointed that there was no real gossip to the situation, "What were you both doing up here alone?"

Basil's heart began to race; this was getting dangerous, "Just admiring the view."

"Is that so?" Lord Henry inquired, "Even though, I heard, Dorian would have been enjoying something else until you apparently interrupted him and would have no need to admire this kind of view."

Basil grimaced, he didn't like the accusing nature of which Harry's words were being spoken, "And you would know this how, Harry? I would not like to think."

How dare he speak of Dorian in such a way?

"Hum," Lord Henry mumbled, "Maybe you were more of a view."

"What was that?" Basil asked, irritated by Harry's insinuating tone.

Lord Henry chuckled, "There really is more to you than meets the eye, isn't there Basil? I've known you for, I don't know how long, and I still find new and interesting things about you every time I see you."

Basil blushed, he didn't know where Harry was going, but he didn't like it.

"You can't ever have him, Basil," Lord Henry softly said, Basil stood up and walked over to the balcony, drinking his wine in one as he did so. Lord Henry just observed him, smiling to himself; he knew he was right, even if Basil denied it, he knew he was right.

"I have to leave for a little bit, Harry," Basil sighed, Dorian's face after he had called him back haunting him as he spoke, "I don't know for how long."

Lord Henry just nodded in agreement, he understood everything: completely.

Basil was standing outside in the refreshing night air to try and clear his head. Yet no matter how hard he tried to forget he could not. Dorian's face kept appearing back into his mind, that last smile he had given him... Filled with... He could not place his finger on. It held so much. It looked like Dorian, of course it was him, but it looked the old him, when he and Basil had first met. How he missed those times, everything was so much simpler. Back then, if Basil had asked to borrow Dorian's portrait that he had painted him he would have just smiled and agreed to it. Instead of causing all this nonsense!

No... It wasn't nonsense. Dorian looked back after he called him. He must have some kind of feeling towards him. And that is why Basil knew he had to go back. He could use asking for the portrait as an excuse to see him again. To see him one last time would be enough, to see if he could put that look onto Dorian's face again would be worth it. Then he could leave London happily and not ever have to come back.

When Basil walked back into Dorian's home the atmosphere had changed. It was obvious that everyone had left but the hall in which the party had been held in still smelt of them; their various aromas stung Basil's nostrils. He didn't like the idea of such sinful people being allowed into Dorian's home. But alas, it was too late to change that. All that Basil could hope for now was that Dorian would understand the real reason why he had come back. That was if Dorian had even noticed him leaving...

He was surprised that Dorian's front door was unlocked. Maybe he was expecting him back?

"Dorian?" Basil called uncertainly, walking further into the grand hall, his voice echoed off the walls.

"Yes?" a familiar voice answered back.

Basil looked around the empty room, "Where are you, Dorian?"

"I'm up here," Dorian said, descending from the staircase which led up to the balcony they had both shared on earlier that night; the faint sound of his footsteps cutting the tension which was beginning to fill up the room, "I thought you had left for the night."

"No," Basil said, unconsciously leaning back as Dorian moved closer to him, "I came to ask for that favour again."

"Oh Basil," Dorian laughed, touching Basil's shoulder lightly, "I told you before, that is something I cannot allow to happen."

Basil looked at the hand which was casually placed on his shoulder, like it belonged there, "Oh please, Dorian. You are being unreasonable."

"Am I?" Dorian said, leaning in closer to Basil, sending warning signals down the back of Basil's neck, "Or do I have to show you for you to see how reasonable I am actually being?"

Dorian was standing so close to Basil now that he could taste his sweet breathe on his face. He couldn't move; Dorian's words had frozen him. He was fascinated to what Dorian was talking about. Furthermore, he was a lot more interested in knowing whether events would take a similar path to what had happened earlier when he had asked for the same favour.

Dorian smiled, his eyes half closing as he did so, it was a beautiful expression; it made Basil's heart bleed.

"I'll show you," Dorian whispered again, delicately lifting Basil's scarf from around his neck (it had been a bit too chilly in the nights air for Basil's liking) and wrapped it around his eyes. Basil jumped and tried to struggle. Suddenly, Dorian's lips were on his once again and he could not bring himself to resist anymore.

He didn't know where Dorian had led him. He knew it had to be somewhere upstairs because they had walked up at least two flights of stairs. The room of which now stood had a small draught and the air which was coming in was cold, but not the nice refreshing kind, the kind of cold air which had the power to suck the happiness out of whatever room it was in. Basil heard the door behind them close and then the sound of a lock being turned. Dorian was then at his shoulder, pulling the scarf from around his eyes.

"In here, Basil, is where your precious portrait lies," Dorian whispered into his ear, causing shocks to run down his back.

"It's your portrait, Dorian, it's always been yours," Basil said, turning to face him, lifting his hand and placing it onto Dorian's cheek; holding his face.

Dorian drew away, walking over to an object which was covered in a dirty cloth. It was quite large and stood nearly as tall as Dorian.

"No Basil," Dorian said, placing his fingers onto the edge of the cloth, "This is your doing."

The portrait was revealed, but it was not the same. Basil took a step back in horror. It was obviously his art, the brush strokes, colouring, proportions... All made by his own hand. What stood before him was a sight that Basil could not begin to explain. What was once a life like picture of Dorian Gray was a demon from Hell. The pure china doll like skin was now covered in paint smears of red, brown and black. The perfectly shaped peaceful mouth was now morphed in to an ugly sneer. Its lips were formed from cracked paint; dirty yellow, rotting teeth were too now painted in. It's once lushes hair was now grey, split and filthy with harsh brush strokes. Its eyes were now nothing more than bottomless empty black dots created by powerful thick ink. Infection could be seen across the whole body and actual fungus was growing from the once smartly decorated clothing. But underneath all the ugliness still stood the body of Dorian. The frame too was the same as it had been at its revealing. And the brush strokes were undeniable Basil's own hand's work.

"No," Basil gasped in disbelief, "This is not my portrait."

"Of course it is," Dorian smiled, strolling back over to Basil and placing his arm around his shoulder, "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Dorian..." Basil turned to his friend, "This must be destroyed."

They stood in silence for a while. The scene would have been perfect if it hadn't been for the demon which was now Dorian's portrait. Both men were trying to avoid its gaze, Basil was trying hard not to let it weaken him; he had to stay strong, for Dorian's sake. Alas it was futile task. Suddenly Dorian gave a small cry and fell to his knees.

"Basil! Oh, Basil!" He sobbed, grabbing hold of Basil's shirt, "Could you help me? Could you really help me? It must be destroyed! It's destroying me, Basil! It's destroying me!"

Basil too fell to his knees, "Yes, Dorian. Of course Dorian."

He put his arms round the younger, crying man, holding him close. Dorian welcomed the embrace, squeezing Basil in return and burying his face into his neck.

"I don't know what to do..." Dorian's muffled voice sounded into Basil's neck, "I... I don't know how to do it..."

"I don't know, Dorian," Basil whispered back, "I don't know either. We can only prayer to God t-"

"No!" Dorian said abruptly, standing up, "There is no God Basil. If there was, would he have let this go as far as it has?"

Basil, who had fallen to the floor from the suddenness of Dorian standing, just starred at the man in front of him. How could he say such a thing? Then again, taking a quick glance at the portrait, maybe he was right...

"The answer is written clearly on your face, Basil," Dorian whispered, turning away from him and walking over to a small table to the left of the portrait. Basil slowly got to his feet and walked over to Dorian.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a murmur, nervously lifting his hand and placing it onto his friends back, it was so warm, even though the room that they stood in was freezing, "Dorian..."

Dorian spun around, a murderous look in his eyes. Basil saw the glisten of something in Dorian's hand and he jumped back. Dorian no more than glanced at him as he stepped in front of the portrait. Basil could now tell that the flash of metal he had seen was a small cheese knife. Had Dorian been eating up here?

"It's time this all ended," Dorian muttered, forgetting momentarily the existence of Basil.

What happened next Basil could not describe, it happened so fast. Dorian had raised the knife above his head and stabbed the portrait in the chest. There was an ear piercing shriek which threw Basil back onto the floor. When he gained the energy to stand again he saw Dorian collapsed on the floor, hand over his heart. Blood was dripping from his finger tips and silent tears were falling down his cheeks. The floor around Dorian was covered in a sticky substance which appeared to have flowed from the portrait. Basil rushed over to the younger man. Something was different about him; he didn't look himself.

"Dorian!" Basil gasped, turning the younger man over and recoiled at the sight he saw.

His once young and youthful face had turned wrinkled and old. Dust had gathered in the lines of his skin. His eyes were dull and lifeless and had turned a cloudy gray. His lips were thin, cracked and dry. His once flawless body was covered in scars and bruises of all shades. His perfect body posture was now twisted and morphed.

"B... Basil..." a harsh new voice came from the body beneath him, "Basil... I..."

"Shh, shh," Basil said comfortingly, holding the younger man close to him. He still felt the same, despite his new appearance. Yes, it was still the same Dorian whom he loved dearly; his exterior did not matter to him, even though it was that which he had first fallen in love with...

"Basil..." Dorian coughed, blood spraying out his mouth which, Basil now noticed, teeth were missing from, "Basil... I think... I think I'm dying..."

"No!" Basil said sharply, "No Dorian! I won't let it happen! I won't!"

He could feel the tears running down his cheeks.

"Basil..." Dorian murmured, holding Basil's chin in his now rough hand, "It's okay... I'm... I'm ready to go."

Basil shook his head and sobbed, "Dorian... I..."

"Basil," Dorian whimpered for the final time, "You're a good friend."

"Dorian, I..." Basil began, but it was too late; Dorian had taken his final breathe. Dorian, his sweet kind hearted but no longer so innocent Dorian, had died in his arms.

He sat there for a while with the dead body in his arms. He couldn't bring himself to move. Something inside of him had broken. Once he had finally gathered enough energy to lift his heavy head he saw something which could only be described as bizarre. Where Dorian's ruined portrait had stood was now the original, glowing painting of him. Basil gasped just before he fainted.

Basil didn't know how long it had been since... since that night. He didn't even know what had happened after he had blacked out or where he had woken up. And he had absolutely no idea what had happened to Dorian's body or his portrait. Basil was in France now, but he felt lost; he no longer had any muse. The streets appeared empty, life no longer held any existence; he felt has if he was alive but not living. He still had nightmares, not of Dorian's hideous sin but of his own. Nightmares of how he would never see his love again, never again feel his body, even if it was truly twisted and mangled. Never again be able to taste him and have the opportunity to pleasure him as he had done once before. Alas, it was never meant to be.


End file.
